


The Shallow Grave of Secret Longing

by 2FarGone



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood and Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 120,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2FarGone/pseuds/2FarGone
Summary: STRONG WARNINGS FOR CHAPTERS 32 AND 36Steve tries to lose himself after a traumatic mission.  His Five-0 team needs to find him before he's lost forever.





	1. The Promise of Ash

**Author's Note:**

> I'd written this story quite some time ago and posted it on another fan fiction site. Upon rereading it, I realized it could use some revision. Here is the revised version which I hope is an improvement. It is the first story I've posted on AO3. I hope you'll enjoy it and let me know what you think of it.

 

The sun seared its way to his core. It burned away any pretense of life – cauterized and sealed off the imagined existence of cool darkness – of a place where life wasn't scorched and brittle – a place where promise didn't end in the ashes of the dead.

He'd seen too many people lose their precarious hold. Sometimes he'd pried away their grasp. He'd been at this for too long. Helped too many begin their journey with only the promise they carried within them. His only promises were those of the finality of death, of destruction . . . of ash.

What little he carried seemed to press him into the sand beneath his feet. Maybe it would just bury him, suck him down into Hell where he belonged. Maybe this _is_ Hell. It seemed so. There hadn't been anything to convince him otherwise.

The ground rolled and pitched. If he wasn't in the middle of a fucking desert, it would feel as though he was on a ship in the middle of a fucking ocean. Sky and earth were the same color – bleached to the whiteness of bone.

He was the only one left. The only one stupid enough to think there was a way out other than death. It had been a trap. One by one they'd been picked off – first by the enemy then by nature itself.

One by one he'd witnessed the essence of another waft away into the dry air – evaporate – poof – pupils grown huge and black until there was only a thin margin of iris to indicate who they'd been.

Maybe they, the dead, were right. No one was getting out alive. He was the only one foolish enough to keep going.

He looked up at the magnesium bright sky. There was only the sun now; no water, no earth, no flesh – the dead were right.

….

This time, his partner had been gone for over a month but at least, this time, he knew _why_ he'd disappeared. It was another one of those secret SEAL classified fucking ops. The ones about which, if he asked any questions, the answer would be only a mysterious smirk.

The blonde man still asked though, just to keep his hand in. Maybe someday he'd actually get an answer. He wasn't going to hold his breath.

He stared blankly at his computer screen before blinking back into the now. He sighed and decided the report was complete . . . well, as complete as it was going to get. He clicked the print icon and after a moment, heard the printer in the outer office hum and whir then the sound of an eight-and-a-half by eleven ratcheting into the catch tray.

He wondered when they would go completely paperless. He knew it would save acres of forests but still didn't think it was a good idea. One incident of some stupid suicidal squirrel in the middle of bucketful nowhere chewing through a wire on a transformer and the power grid would go down and domino all the others with it. Then where would they be?

Well, for one thing, they'll still be able to read this fucking report. Hah!

He retrieved his pages from the copier, signed them, stapled them together and dropped the whole thing into the 'out' basket for tomorrow. He'd just begun to pack up his things, his travel mug, keys, wallet, cell and Hello-Kitty lunchbox, (Gracie insisted he take it this morning because inside it she'd packed a special PBJ sandwich – a happy face of raisins carefully pressed into his favorite, totally unhealthy, white bread). He was a little surprised she'd actually entrusted him with her treasured pink and white lunch box. Kono thought it was cute while Chin only smiled. McGarrett, if he were here, would have had a field day. Detective Danny Williams had just taken a step toward the door when the phone on his desk rang . . . of course.

Williams was an old-fashioned kind of guy. Besides liking hard copies, he still liked a phone that was just a phone. It didn't have to take pictures or play games or download videos of people doing idiotic things, it just had to be a fucking phone that allowed him to communicate over distance with another human being.

Sighing, he ceased his mental mini-rant and picked it up, answering "Detective Williams".

"Detective _Danny_ Williams?" the deep voice on the other end asked in an official sounding tone.

"Speaking. How may I help you?" replied Danny equally as formal.

"I have Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett here. He would like to speak with you."

Danny felt a sudden unease. _Why didn't Steve just dial the number himself?_

He heard muffled words and then the sound of someone grasping the phone.

A strangely timid voice asked, "Danny?" In just that one word is pain.

 


	2. No Admittance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny arrives to find something of a shock awaiting him.

 

"Danny?" asked the voice, tentatively, timidly.

"Steve?" It didn't sound like Steve who always sounded so sure, so confident. How could this be his partner; a man who could make bad guys wet their pants with a glare or just a low growl? This didn't sound like that man at all.

"Steve! Are you okay? What's going on? What have you done this time?"

The tall man closed his eyes as the rapid words poured over him; warm, soothing. It didn't matter what they were or even the speed at which they were spoken. Right now, the actual words didn't matter at all. It was Danny's voice: caring and real. At least he hoped it was real; it was sometimes hard to tell these days. The SEAL concentrated on the sound of it, mentally latching on as though it was a verbal life-preserver thrown into the ocean of confusion and in which he flailed.

"Steve? Babe you still there?"

"I can't believe it's you." breathed the SEAL, clutching the phone so tightly he was in danger of crushing the plastic.

"It's me." replied the voice that carried more than a hint of concern. Steve's uncharacteristically enthusiastic greeting had thrown him off. It was odd; so unlike the man he'd known for nearly three years. The only time Danny ever heard his partner so rattled was when Wo-Fat's name had come up. At Steve's end of the connection there was silence.

"Steven?"

"Danny, can you come and get me? Please?"

"Of course" answered the detective worried and mystified by the nearly childlike sound of the request. Steve sounded unsure if his best friend and partner would actually come after him. Something was wrong, so very, very, wrong.

"Where are you?"

"Quantico. The umm . . . Naval facility at Quantico. Please come and get me. They won't let me go home by myself . . . I don't know why . . . Danny, please."

Steve was sounding more distressed as the call wore on. _What the hell?_ thought the detective.

"Steven, calm down. Of course I'll come get you. Let me go home and pack and I'll be on the next plane out. Don't worry, it's okay, I'll be there."

"Danny . . ." there was a longer pause this time. The detective would have thought he'd lost the connection but he could hear rapid breathing on the other end ". . . Danny, I'm scared."

...

Physically, the flight was pleasant enough. The plane wasn't as packed as they'd usually been on his infrequent travels. The one that went from Newark to Honolulu almost three years ago had been jammed with snowbirds fleeing the nearly arctic weather for sunnier climes.

He grimaced as a screech that could shatter glass reverberated through the cabin. Though he loved children, the hyperactive kids and the squalling infants had made him start to fantasize about parachutes – not necessarily for himself.

The chime that preceded the standard announcement to fold and lock their trays and etcetera sounded. A couple of minutes later the pilot announced the temperature at their destination as a crisp forty-eight degrees at 2:18 PM. Eastern Standard Time.

The information gave his stomach an extra little twist. He knew whatever awaited him when they landed was going to be difficult. He didn't know exactly what to expect but he couldn't ignore the request. Steve needed him and he needed to be there for the man who'd become like a brother to him in all ways but DNA.

He exited the jet-way and strode across the carpeted waiting area and out the gate to the down-escalator which efficiently conveyed him to the floor that held the auto rental counter. Having brought only a carry-on, there was no need to go to baggage claim. He carried the bulky overcoat folded over his arm, glad he still had it though it hadn't been worn since that visit to his parents last year at Christmas. The heavy cloth smelled of cedar from the trunk in which it had been stored. Shrugging on the woolen garment as soon as he exited the terminal he quickly spotted the shuttle that would take him to the lot where his rental car waited.

He wondered how Steve was coping with the cool weather. His partner was a tough, adaptable, guy but cold weather wasn't his thing. Danny thought there wasn't enough insulation on the man's lean body to keep him warm. Maybe that's why Steve didn't like it, and every time he came back from deployment; he looked thinner than when he'd left. Sometimes there were new scars too. He'd only get a vague answer, if any, about those but he'd have to ask him about the insulation thing. It had always been the blonde's theory that a couple of extra pounds is a good reserve for leaner, more stressful times. At least that's what he'd learned by watching Animal Planet.

Danny kept his own body in impressive shape but he didn't have the runner's build of his partner. He also didn't have those unsettling tattoos. He knew that most of the women who'd had the pleasure of viewing Steve without his shirt thought they were hot but Danny didn't think getting something he thought sinister looking permanently inked onto his body was something to aspire to . . . admiring females or not.

...

Quantico is huge and confusing. He finally found the office he sought. Before seeing Steve, he had to speak with Caldwell. It seemed the best thing to do. He hoped Steve wouldn't mind.

Knocking at the door, a deep voice bade him enter and he pushed it open. Seated behind the desk is a middle-aged man with coffee-colored skin and short dense hair that looked as though it had been frosted by snowfall.

"Uh, I'm Danny Williams" he announced himself, not quite knowing why his voice sounded so uncertain about his own identity. "I'm here for Commander McGarrett."

"Ah! You're right on time Mister, or should I address you as 'Detective' Williams?" Without waiting for an answer he continued, "I'm sure Steve will be happy to see you. He seems very anxious to get out of here." smiled Caldwell.

"How's he doing?" asked Danny, anxious enough that he didn't even hear Caldwell's question about how to address him.

Caldwell gestured to the metal chair in front of his desk. The no-nonsense desk was nearly bare except for what he assumed was Steve's file. Danny quickly seated himself and leaned forward in the uncomfortable seat.

"The commander is OK, considering what he's been through. I'd like to keep him here longer but I think he'd just 'go over the wall' if we didn't let him go home." laughed the man whose teeth were even and white below a salt and pepper mustache.

"Yeah, that sounds like him." Danny smiled in return but without any real mirth behind it.

"I understand you two are close?" asked Caldwell.

"Like brothers." answered Danny sincerely. "Steve is my best friend and I'd do anything for him – as I know he would for me."

"That's good Danny . . . if I may call you Danny?" politely asked Caldwell, figuring that it would get to that point of familiarity anyway – considering the job ahead of them.

"Yeah sure, I've been called lots worse." he smiled back nervously, still not knowing why he felt so anxious.

"Your loyalty is admirable." said the tall dark man. Danny hadn't realized how tall Caldwell was until he stood up from behind his desk. He’s probably about the same height as Steve but with several more pounds on his frame.

They walked out of the small office together and down the long, stark hallway. Danny felt his airline lunch begin to roil in his stomach. He took a deep, calming, breath and concentrated on centering himself as they walked what seemed like miles on the industrial grade linoleum tile.

The self-calming technique was actually something Steve had taught him months ago during Danny's 'issues' with Rachel about visitation rights when he'd wanted to punch a wall or maybe even get his hands around his ex's lovely, swan-like, neck. It had all worked out but things between them had remained tense for quite a while. They had other 'issues' to work out these days but it was a long story and one he couldn't dwell on at the moment.

They came to a stop at the large sliding doors that blocked the broad hallway. The ones marked 'Psychiatric Wing – No Admittance Without Permission'.

 


	3. Taut Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While endeavoring to help, Danny continues to wonder how his partner had come to be in such desperate straits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is set in a time when the original cast was present, all SO's were alive and well, and Gracie was still a little girl.

  


Taut Surface

  


They paused at the heavy sliding-glass doors before requesting entrance.

_It seems a little late to ask these questions now. I should have brought them up when we were in the office. Maybe I'm just trying to get more time to adjust to seeing him in lock-up . . . again._

But this isn't like that time Steve was in Halawa. That time, he knew exactly why Steve was there. That time, there was hope for release. This time . . . _What am I going to say to the man? What is Steve going to ask of me?_ Mouth dry and stomach clenched like a fist, Danny grasped the doctor's arm to get his attention.

As the tall doctor turned to him questioningly, Danny blurted out, "Uh, is there anything I should know before I go see him?"

Caldwell looked at him sympathetically. He could tell this was hard on the diminutive detective. He said in a reassuring voice, "Steve just needs to talk to someone with whom he's comfortable. He's very closed off right now, buttoned-up tight. I've tried to get him to talk to me but haven't been very successful. He needs someone he trusts."

Said Danny almost sadly, "That doesn't sound much different than he is usually. Steve's not the most chatty person I've ever met. Getting him to talk about anything that may be bothering him is like . . . well, it's almost impossible. He's a stubborn bastard."

Taking his hand back from where it had been poised over the intercom button, Caldwell turned and gestured toward an alcove they'd passed on their way.

Retracing their steps, they found a quiet place for the conversation that should probably have taken place in his office. He didn't push it at the time because he didn't want to spook the already nervous looking detective. His patient truly needed someone he could trust. His attempts at engaging the Lieutenant Commander had been mostly met with silence. The only reaction he'd gotten were a few 'yes sirs' or 'no sirs' and maybe a couple of anxious gestures like compulsively rubbing his thumbs over his wrists or wrapping his arms around himself to stop from doing such things. The man is like a coiled spring or a bottle of shaken carbonated water just waiting for someone to untwist the cap. The trick was to release it carefully and slowly so there'd be no explosion to harm anyone.

In the small waiting area with its well-used couches and chairs they settled-in for their talk. The doctor sat back comfortably as Williams – once again in the same posture he'd adopted when sitting opposite him in the office - leaned forward, elbows on knees and looked at him worriedly.

"To be honest Danny, even though that stubbornness is counter-productive right now, it may have been the only thing that kept him alive. They didn't think he was going to make it when he was found but . . . it's served its purpose and it's time to get him to let go of it and open up. That's, hopefully, where you can be of help."

Caldwell had previously told him as much as he could about what had happened without breaking the 'classified' rule. Danny knew that Steve had been found very close to death and transported to Germany before arriving in Virginia. A few days ago, he'd been transferred to the unit in which they sat.

"What exactly were his physical injuries?" he asked, already having been informed that Steve was the sole survivor of a group of six. There hadn't been anything on the news about it. _Just another fucking classified op,_ thought the detective.

"As you may know, severe dehydration can lead to kidney damage among other things. He was on dialysis for the first week and a half. Even though he no longer requires it, we have to watch for any complications. We were hoping the electrolyte imbalance was one of the reasons for his other issues but that has proven not to be the case."

"His other issues?" anxiously questioned the blonde.

"The ones that aren't strictly physical" answered Caldwell tiredly removing the eyeglasses he'd donned when they'd left his office. He used his knuckles to rub at his eyes before continuing, "The antibiotics we're still administering for infection due to a serious but survivable knife wound and the result of what look to be repeated beatings should help him quite a bit. Physically, he's not yet entirely back but he's on his way."

Danny nodded silently to acknowledge the information.

"We've also been trying to encourage him to eat a little more than he has. He's probably lost a few pounds since you've last seen him. He should regain those in the next few weeks. There are some dietary supplements, vitamins, maybe a fortified protein drink with additional carbs that should help."

"Super SE . . ., err Steve" corrected the blonde, "usually tries to eat healthy stuff but he's kinda prone to going without eating if we get busy or something is really bothering him."

"It says in his file the commander has eaten very little since he's been back. We certainly don't want to force feed him and I seriously doubt he would tolerate any further IV’s or an NG tube. Maybe one of the first things you can do is to get him to start eating again."

"That probably won't be as easy as it sounds. He has very few, if any, food addictions and we've all tried to corrupt him but he has a will of iron."

Danny smiled, remembering the numerous verbal sparring matches over Danny's own devotion to malasadas and coco puffs. Steve was always trying to get him to see the error of his ways just as Danny was trying to get him to 'walk on the wild side' as far as an occasional junk food feast.

"You sound like you know your partner pretty well. Hopefully you can get him to loosen up and talk to us. It would certainly help him."

"Don't hold your breath doc. We've been trying to find his 'chatty' button for two years, it may not even exist." grimly smiled the detective.

"But he will talk to you? I mean about something other than the weather or baseball scores?"

"He'll discuss baseball to humor me but, yeah, he's surprised me every once in a while by talking about something deeper but it's been rare. The only one he seems to regularly let his guard down with is my daughter, Grace. The two of them like to plot against me. Sometimes it's like having two nine-year-olds instead of just one."

"That's good to hear though it may not be wise to have your daughter around Steve right now."

"What?" a chill ran down Danny's spine, "He wouldn't hurt her . . . would he?"

"No, no. I'm sure he wouldn't intentionally harm anyone, particularly a child but . . . the flashbacks are pretty intense. He may hurt someone or even himself _unintentionally_. We just need to take it slow for now."

Taking in Danny's newly distressed expression, he said gently, "It's going to be a long, hard, climb back to a healthy place for Steve. Are you sure you're up to this? We can keep him here if we have to. Please don't feel any guilt. I'll understand if you want to back away."

"Nope." said Danny with quiet conviction, "I'm in this all the way. If our roles were reversed, I know Steve would do the same for me, though I'm sure he'd say that **not** talking isn't my problem." said the blonde detective who for the umpteenth time ran his hand through his carefully styled hair. "I can't abandon him. There've been too many people who've done that already."

"I understand he has no family other than a sister. Are they close?"

"Not very but that's mostly due to circumstance. I know he loves her but she has her own problems. He's always been the strong one for her . . . he's always been the strong one for everybody . . ." Danny's voice trailed off sadly.

"What about his friend, Lieutenant Catherine Rollins? He seemed worried that she'd find out he was here."

"I can't even answer that one to be honest. I think they probably have strong feelings for one another but their careers have kept them apart. I referred to it once as 'friends with benefits' and Steve didn't dispute the term. I don't think even he knows what to call it. I know I don't."

"Well, it's good to hear he's got a strong ally in you." nodded the doctor with sincerity. "With your help, he can get through this. Let's go see him, shall we?"

…

After Caldwell spoke into the intercom to identify himself and visitor, the intimidating doors whooshed open and they walked down another hallway - this one much shorter than the last. Halfway to the end of the corridor they came to a door with a sign over it that read 'Day Room'. The tall doctor and the not so tall detective entered a large open room that would be sunny if there had actually been any sun. With its oversized windows, it was still brighter than the space they'd stepped out of. Danny swept the room looking for his partner, squinting as it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the change in lighting.

In the middle of the large space were a couple of guys playing chess at a game table. A few feet away, another man sat reading in a comfortable looking chair, his slippered feet propped on an ottoman. It took Danny a moment to notice chairs, tables and even the ottoman, (no matter how comfy looking), were fastened to the linoleum floor.

His stomach did another roll at the realization.

In a dim corner of the room sat a lone, dark-haired, figure; posture rigidly upright, head turned toward one of the large windows and staring vacantly out at the gloom.

Caldwell took Danny's elbow to guide him toward the man who seemed lost in thought. The doctor shepherded the detective forward, not letting go of his arm as if worried he would change his mind and bolt from the room. They were nearly to him and he'd not made any indication he even knew they were there.

"Commander?" greeted Caldwell, trying to get Steve's attention.

When there was no response, Danny took a step forward and said "Steven?"

The tall man flinched and turned his head. "Danny?" he greeted uncertainly looking as though he was trying to decide if the man before him was real or not. Then his expressive eyes widened and a slow smile blossomed on his too angular face. "You came!"

"Of course, you idiot. You called, I came. Nothing new there." smiled Danny, desperately wanting to hug his friend but not knowing if the gesture would be welcome right now.

Even during the best of times, Steve wasn't necessarily a 'huggy' kind of guy but he slowly stood and took a step forward, awkwardly lifting his arms to hold them out toward his friend. Danny took a step to close the gap between them and into the offered embrace. They stood silently, arms around each other for a long moment.

"I can't believe you're here." The SEAL breathed out shakily, the side of his gaunt face resting atop the shorter man's blonde hair as his arms tightened around his partner's shoulders.

Danny was actually a little surprised. Steve wasn't of the warmest and fuzziest temperament. He rarely initiated hugs and would begin to squirm uncomfortably if they lasted longer than the minimum and certainly never so tightly and desperately.

The detective also noted that beneath the baggy sweatshirt were angles and ridges indicating the SEAL had lost even more weight than was evident by just his face.

"It's good to see you, buddy. You had us worried." said Danny, his voice almost comically muffled against the other man's chest.

"Sorta had myself worried." replied Steve; speech slower and more deliberate than was his norm. Danny wondered it was due to drugs or something else.

They broke the embrace and stood back to evaluate each other.

The man was nearly the poster child for the word 'unwell'. Dramatically thinner than when he'd last seen him more than a month ago there are bluish hollows under eyes and the skin stretched over startlingly prominent cheekbones appeared nearly translucent. There were other changes as well.

The man drove himself and others at dizzying speed most of the time, but this Steve was different: slower, milder, almost unsure in movements that in the past had been all about confidence, power and grace but now seemed timid, hesitant and awkward. This alarmed Danny almost more than anything else.

"Where's your tie?" asked Steve, sounding genuinely curious.

"Haven't worn one for a while Babe. You finally bullied me into saving it for special occasions." smiled Danny, startled at the observation. He actually hadn't worn one for months before Steve had been suddenly deployed to God knows where.

The SEAL looked surprised, maybe even a little distressed. "Oh, yeah. I forgot." he mumbled.

"No worries. It made Chin and Kono happy. Gracie didn't seem to mind as long as I promised to wear her favorites every once-in-awhile for ballet recitals and dinner out – even if it's only for pizza. She's been pretty busy lately. We have quite a few things to catch up on when we get back."

Steve only stared blankly back at him. Before, he'd have been asking Danny for updates about the little girl who called him Uncle Steve. He also hadn't asked any questions about Five-0's cases. McGarrett’s a nearly infamous control freak, (or at least his partner thinks so). This new passivity is unnerving.

"Commander? Steve?" asked Caldwell, getting his patient’s attention on the second try. "Why don't we go back to your room so we can talk a little and tell Danny what's been going on with you? We need to make plans for you to go home."

"Home?" asked Steve with the expression of an eight year old who'd been given the keys to Disneyland.

"Yeah, home Steven. You know the land of lava, ferocious humidity and those freakin' pineapples." smiled Danny.

"Home?" repeated Steve as if not believing the place even existed.

"Come on, babe." said Danny, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Let's go talk about breakin' outta this joint."

"Great. That's great." said Steve with an unsure smile before turning to lead them toward a door that opened out onto another long hallway. Walking slowly, Danny's hand never leaving his partner's shoulder they, finally, came to a stop in front of a door with a small window in it. It was like several others along the corridor. Its only distinction being the number seven stenciled in black paint above the window.

The ten by ten inch window is glass but it’s the kind that’s thickly made and has what looks like chicken wire embedded into it.

"This is, uh, my room." said Steve gesturing Danny and Caldwell toward the door he pulled open for them. Danny was relieved it wasn't locked. It would finish breaking his heart to find that his friend was locked into a room in an already locked ward. It had to be humiliating for Steve to even be in such a place. The detective's gut churned-on.

They entered a small room sparsely furnished with a bed and nightstand. The lighting was provided by a fixture set into the wall over it. It too was covered with what looked to be indestructible material. A small footlocker was placed at the end of the bed. Danny would bet a week's pay that it too was fastened to the floor.

On the far wall, the large window that let in the weak late-afternoon light was made of the same material as the window in the door. On the wall to the left was a doorway that Danny assumed led to a bathroom.

There was nothing to personalize the space. It was bare and sterile, its only hint of color were the bright red disposable plastic cups that sat next to a yellow plastic pitcher on the nightstand.

 _This looks like a prison.,_ thought Danny, _I_ _t's no wonder Steve wants outta here so badly._

Caldwell announced, "I'll go get a couple of chairs; be right back." and hurried out the door that clicked shut behind him. Maybe it was only the self-closing mechanism that made the noise but Danny suddenly got a horribly claustrophobic feeling as he realized it may have locked them in.

"So, uh" began Steve, not seeming to notice his partner's alarm, "You want some water?"

There was absolutely nothing else in the room to offer in the way of hospitality.

"Yeah, sure." answered Danny, "My throat _is_ kind of dry right now."

Steve went to the nightstand and carefully poured water into one of the cups, movements slow but unshaking and extended the plastic tumbler to his partner. "Have a seat, D."

Taking the cup, Danny sat himself down on the edge of the small bed covered with a dark navy bedspread. He almost didn't want to sit on it, seeing how neatly and tightly the covering was stretched over the mattress. No matter how his friend was feeling, neatness was still ingrained in him from his years of service - not to mention what his partner considered the man's own natural OCD tendencies. Danny was sure one could bounce a quarter off its taut surface.

Steve stood looking at him, waiting for his friend to begin a conversation. Danny obliged.

"No offense, Babe but you need to change decorators." he began, gesturing around the small room with the cup before taking a sip.

"It is kinda plain." agreed Steve looking slowly around the space as though for the first time even though he been here for nearly two weeks.

"Plain?" repeated Danny, beginning his usual expansive gestures. "Plain is vanilla, plain is a hot dog without relish, plain is Camilla Parker-Bowles, uh Windsor. This is . . ." paused the blonde man, searching for another example of the adjective.

"A cell?" supplied Steve, turning his head toward his friend to look him unblinkingly in the eye.

"Uh, yeah." said Danny uncomfortably trying not to squirm on the precisely made cot.

"I know." said his friend sadly, repeating again even softly, "I know."

  



	4. One Tough Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's circumstance continues to alarm and sadden his friend.

 

Steve, Danny and Dr. Caldwell sat for what seemed days, hashing out what was needed before he'd allow Steve to be released into the care of one listed as his next of kin. There were several things to which both had to agree.

Steve was to see someone at Tripler for physical as well as mental care. Danny knew Steve was in a bad way both for his dazed demeanor and for so readily agreeing to show up at a hospital of any kind - never mind the cooperating with the shrink part.

During the conversation, Caldwell revealed that Steve had been given several different medications; some for his physical recovery, some for his mental. There were antibiotics, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and sleep medications. Most were familiar to Danny or he'd at least heard of them. The last one rattled off by the doctor wasn't one he knew.

"I'm not familiar with that one, doc. What's it for?" asked the blonde.

Before the doctor could even answer, Steve spoke up, "It's an antipsychotic, Danny."

The detective looked into his partner's dark hazel-blue eyes. Steve stared back at him unblinkingly, almost defiantly, as if waiting for the blonde to make a remark of some sort.

Danny looked from Steve to Dr. Caldwell who'd noted the unspoken exchange and said, "It's only temporary. Just until Steve gets a better handle on things. Right now," he nodded toward his patient, "It's difficult during the flashbacks to tell what's real and what's not. These episodes can be incredibly intense and one's body reacts as though it is a reality rather than a remembrance of a traumatic experience."

Steve only nodded silently in agreement looking ashamed of it all . . . of himself.

Danny saw it - the 'I know I'm fucked up and pathetic' expression he'd seen Steve exhibit on rare occasion. His usually displayed what people assumed was arrogance but was only absolute confidence in his own abilities. Danny knew the confidence was well-founded. Steve is his country's ultimate warrior.

But his partner could go from BAMF to abject wretchedness in zero to sixty when he felt he'd failed to protect those for whom he was responsible . . . which was pretty much everyone Danny had realized after working with the man for only a couple of days. Though Steve liked to pretend he was inscrutable, to Danny the man was as easy to read as one of Gracie's old first-grade storybooks with emotion spelled out in twenty-four point text and illustrated in primary colors. It had been less than three years since Five-0 had been formed and their sometimes rocky friendship had begun but it was like they'd known and been there for each other forever. Something Steve perceived as failure was surely part of this. Danny knew it in his bones.

The meeting wore on as the oblong square of light reflecting through the window onto the speckled linoleum grew longer and then vanished as Caldwell stood and switched on the lamp over the nightstand.

They reviewed the things to look for and what might trigger an episode. They went over the med schedule and dosages. Steve looked uncomfortable through the entire process. He was used to being in charge, the one giving the orders.  _ This shouldn't even be happening _ , he thought dully.

Caldwell wanted to hold a couple more sessions before McGarrett was released. Their previous meetings hadn't been all that productive but with his patient’s permission and Detective Williams’ solid presence, perhaps it would help ground him enough to be more forthcoming. There was a session scheduled for the following afternoon.

Danny stayed a while to visit after Caldwell, finally satisfied everything had been covered, left. The blonde man chatted of familiar things: Grace's progress at school, what the cousins were up to, Kamekona's latest business venture - just comfortable grounding subjects. Steve listened silently, nodding occasionally and offering a brief smile here and there.

It was completely dark outside the window when Danny finally stood from his folding chair and stretched stiffly; actually hearing his vertebrae and joints pop and crack in protest in the silence of the little room.

"Babe" he said to Steve who sat opposite on the still neatly made bed where he'd perched for the last few hours.  _ How does he do that? There's not even a wrinkle in it!  _ he thought. "I've gotta go check-in at the hotel before they give my room away. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Just a couple more things and then we can get on a plane and blow this pop-stand, okay?" Steve only nodded silently.

The detective took a step toward the door, (it required only a single stride to reach it), and grasped the handle to pull it open. It wouldn't budge.

From behind him Steve quietly said, "It's locked, Danny. It must be after eight. They lock us in after eight P.M. We'll have to call someone to let you out."

Flustered, the blonde turned toward the man sitting calmly on his bed. He didn't know how to respond to the obvious. Softly he said, "I'm so sorry that you had to stay here and that I couldn't come to get you sooner. We'll fix this. It'll be okay. You'll see."

"The intercom's there to the right of the door." said Steve not able to look Danny in the eye; body posture the very depiction of shame. "Just press the button. Someone will answer in a minute."

Danny sadly observed the man who sat wordlessly staring at the linoleum. "Steve, babe, please believe me. You will get over this. I'll help you. Your ohana will help you. We'll get through this together. You've been the rock for us for so long. Let us be your rock now."

"Yeah" was all Steve said, silent tears beginning to slide down his face to fall onto hands folded in his lap. Taking a quick stride toward him, Danny firmly gripped Steve's shoulders, feeling him flinch but not move away. He moved a hand under his partner's chin to raise his face upward so that he could look him in the eye.

"This will get better Steven. It won’t be long before you'll be back to your badass self; running Chin and Kono and me all over the island to round up the bad guys. Honest."

There was no response other than Steve futilely trying to blink back the tears continuing to trail down his gaunt cheeks.

"Like Scarlett O'Hara said, babe, 'tomorrow is another day'.” Danny smiled downward at his friend.

Eyes glistening as he pulled away from his partner, Steve responded in embarrassment, "D, I'm not a southern belle trying to win back her man."

"Maybe not. But like Scarlett, you  _ are _ one tough bitch." grinned Danny as he patted his partner on the shoulder one last time and went to press the button on the intercom.

Behind him he heard a small chuckle from the man on the bed.

  
  



	5. No One Gets Out Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small clues surface as to what had devastating consequences for Commander McGarrett; his country's ultimate warrior.

 

He was going home! Albeit with a shitload of meds both already in his system and in the small nylon tote that Danny carried but, he was finally out of here. They'd have to fly from Dulles to O'Hare first but it was the beginning of the journey.

Apparently Caldwell was satisfied Steve wouldn't freak and cause mayhem on the citizens of Maryland, Illinois, (they had that brief stopover in Chicago), and eventually, Hawaii. For the moment, both Steve and his doctor trusted Danny to make sure of it.

Steve would do his best to keep it together. He'd learned what some of the triggers are – not enough rest, low blood sugar, stress. In the past, these things were all part of his normal life. He guessed 'normal' was the operative word here. Maybe he'd never be that again. Maybe he'd windup like some of his former brothers-in-arms. From the way he'd felt even a couple of days ago, it was a definite possibility.

There was Freeman who'd become a paranoid hermit in the mountains of Tennessee. There was Guarnieri who was probably, at this moment, wandering the streets of New York City looking for a steam grate on which to camp. Then there was Holden . . .

As they waited at the entrance for the cab to take them to the airport, Steve looked upward. Though its blue is muted by a thin layer of haze and it’s being filtered through the haze of his medications, he thinks it’s the most beautiful sky he’s ever seen.

Breathing in the crisp air he stood for a moment just enjoying being outside. In the two and a half weeks of what he considered incarceration, he'd been out only twice; the first time during transfer from one unit to another when he'd been taken into the building on the very steps of which he was now standing.

At the time, it reminded him of entering Halawa during the Jameson thing. The same feeling of dread - the feeling he was never going to leave unless it was feet first.

The second time was one night when he suddenly found himself outside, not knowing how he got there. His knees and palms were scraped and bleeding, knuckles bruised and swollen. There were several very pissed looking nurses and a couple of worse-for-wear orderlies with cuts, scrapes and bruises of their own who'd eventually found him quietly sitting on a bench under a tree. It was pretty confusing.

After that, everything was even more blurred. Whatever drugs they gave him knocked him on his ass. He felt as though he'd been wrapped in layers of cotton and gauze with every thought dulled and hard to form, every sense deadened. He supposed he couldn't blame them. It's what you did with dangerous animals – you locked them up or sedated them or sometimes just put them down. He understood.

…..

2 Days before Danny's arrival:

The sessions with Caldwell were mostly silent. Steve would answer some of the direct questions that required no particular thought, just statements of fact. There were things he couldn't remember – lots of them; pretty much the entire previous month.

The only time he got glimpses of what had happened was in nightmares – or at least he thought they were nightmares. He'd be screaming and then he'd feel a sting on his arm or his hip and then . . . nothing.

He knew he should feel embarrassed about it but, afterward, there wasn't much feeling at all; just that all-encompassing numbness. During one of the nightmares or whatever they were called, he woke with blood dripping from his hand. They told him he'd cut himself on a glass but he didn't even notice until they'd pointed it out. He hadn't felt anything. Maybe it was best that way. Maybe it was best to feel nothing: neither heat nor cold, neither happiness nor sadness . . . just . . . nothing.

Caldwell told him perhaps it would be good to talk to one of his friends. Steve hadn't thought about it. He hadn't thought about the people who'd probably not even missed him. They were nice people but they seemed so far away; both physically and emotionally. They had no idea. They never would. He'd never tell them. It was for the best.

"Commander?" said Dr. Caldwell, waiting for Steve to look at him. The good doctor was never quite sure when it was okay to touch the man; place a hand on his arm or tap him on the shoulder to get his attention.

Sometimes, there'd be no response at all to touch. Sometimes it would cause an almost explosive reaction when it triggered the fight or flight reflex. For the moment, it was best not to touch him at all.

Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett wasn't the first patient who'd reacted that way. Unfortunately he probably wouldn't be the last. PTSD and ASD were common disorders among the military. For some, it was temporary, for others it would become a lifelong challenge. He hoped that wouldn't be the case for this patient. He'd accomplished so much, done so much for his country. It would be tragic for everyone if he were to remain locked in his nightmares. Caldwell himself had gone into the profession to reach people like this young man but some, tragically, were just unreachable.

Steve slowly turned his head to look at the coffee-hued man. He seemed nice enough but that didn't mean he'd find out anything. That didn't mean he was going to tell him about the screaming woman.

"Sir?" asked Steve looking back at kind brown eyes as he struggled to focus and find out what the man wanted from him.

"I asked if you want to call Detective Williams. He's listed as your next of kin. Would you like to speak with him? I'm sure he must be worried about you by now."

"Uhh, yeah, I mean yes sir. I need to speak with him. I have to find out what's happening with my team. I should be getting back there. It isn't right for me to be away for so long."

"We talked about you going back to work. I'm afraid that can't happen for a while. Not until we find out what's bothering you and resolve it. When we find that out, maybe you can go back to work after you've rested."

"I don't need to rest. I need to work."

"Believe me, it's not what you need right now, Steve."

McGarrett only stared blankly back. He knew they wouldn't let him leave yet. Maybe they'd never let him leave. If that became the case, he'd find a way out. He was well-trained for such things. If they wouldn't let him go, he'd find a way out. It didn't have to involve actual escape. It wouldn't even hurt. Other than the need to not be here . . . he felt nothing.

"After we're done here, let's give Danny a call. I'm sure he'd be happy to hear from you but first, we've got work to do."

Steve only nodded in agreement. He understood what the man wanted. He would cooperate as best he can but some things would remain unspoken. If he said them aloud, he could never leave here; the desert should keep its secrets - the ones buried in their shallow graves.

"Let's try again to remember what happened. When you were found, you were severely dehydrated. You'd been wandering by yourself for quite a while. What do you recall?"

"Not much sir. It was hot and bright and there was no water." The SEAL's face tightened suddenly as if a flash of something came to him. The shrink noticed the change in expression. It was subtle but it was there.

_There was a hand, a woman's hand. It held an apple. The hand was delicate, long_ _tanned_ _fingers, short trimmed nails. The apple wasn't one like those in the supermarkets back home; the big, juicy, red ones with shiny skin and perfect shapes. It was small and mottled. It was hard looking, like the place itself, like the people who had lived and fought here for centuries._ _Suddenly, he_ _he_ _ard_ _a scream and_ _then_ _she was gone._

Caldwell's concerned face appeared in front of him, "Steve, where did you go right now? You looked as though you remembered something. What was it?"

"An apple. I remember an apple." said Steve calmly, voice revealing not the slightest bit of any emotional value placed on the image.

"Was it on the ground? Was it in a tree? Where was the apple?" asked Caldwell. The doctor knew that small scenes like this would often lead to others. It was like teasing out the end of a tangled ball of twine. Eventually it would unravel.

"There was a woman's hand holding the apple."

"Who was this woman?"

"I don't know."

"What else was happening when you saw this woman holding the apple? Can you recall any sounds or smells? Anything that would indicate what was going on?"

"No, nothing." said Steve now becoming agitated; shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

As far as Caldwell was concerned, even agitated was better than the absolute blank wall he'd usually see whenever he questioned the young man. He didn't want the questions to trigger another break but they were getting nowhere in these sessions that usually consisted of total silence or conversation of things too mundane to give any real clue or make any headway as to why a Navy SEAL is in such dire straits. There'd been no progress to speak of.

From his phone conversations with Detective Williams, the doctor had learned that McGarrett, even normally, wasn't the most talkative of people. He kept pretty much everything close to the vest. It wasn't unusual with military personnel who had the job he did. They were people highly trained at compartmentalizing their thoughts, their physical senses – pain of any kind.

Sometimes that skill caused problems of its own. Some of them, like McGarrett, were so very good at it with walls so thick and carefully constructed that it became a prison of their own making. Keeping everyone out and everything in, eventually, they'd just implode.

"No one came back?" asked the dark-haired man suddenly as though remembering for the first time. This was the one question repeated at nearly every session.

"No, you were the only one who made it back." said Caldwell gently, confirming the fact.

"Oh, okay. I remember." McGarrett nodded his head slowly as if processing new information. The doctor only sighed. This was like a movie on perpetual replay where scenes were repeated over and over with no varying result.

"May I go now?" politely asked the young man as though he was a boy asking permission to leave the dinner table.

"I'd like you to stay a little longer. We've only been here for twenty minutes, Steve."

"Oh, okay." said McGarrett.

He thought they'd been here for hours. Time didn't seem to be registering in the usual way for some reason. He'd always had an excellent internal clock but even that was fucked-up right now. The tall man slumped silently back into his chair, staring at the floor and waiting for another question he may or may not be able to answer. It didn't matter. He had nowhere to go. No one was getting out alive.

….

_There was_ _dust_ _all around them: in their hair, on their clothes, in their eyes and noses, clogging their machinery and weapons, it was even in their food most of the time. This whole fucking country seemed to consist of it. The parts that weren't made of rock that is._

_The hostiles had shot up another village. Killed most of the men,_ _seized_ _the women. Even the children weren't safe. If they got in the way, they were cut down with the rest._

_They'd been hunting the group for a week. Intel had directed them to the remotest part of a remote territory. Steve had no idea why anyone would even want to fight over this piece of ground. There was maybe a stark beauty to it by the very nothingness of the terrain: no trees, no greenery, nothing for miles but rock and_ _dirt_ _. . . maybe it was all they had. There were few material things over which to fight._

_He supposed it had started thousands of years ago as a tribal thing. It was still tribal now only with rockets, carbines and IEDs instead of knives and swords._

_Parkman and Rodriguez had taken lead._ _He_ _and Heidegger were covering the rear. They'd trade off every so often just to break up the monotony. The six of them were getting pretty tired of chasing the bastards across this fucking nowhere of a country. They'd come close a couple of times, even bursting into a camp with half-cooked food still on the fire; their target melting into the night right ahead of them._

_There was supposed to be another encampment that was base for a larger, more organized group. It would mean a bigger battle when they finally caught up with them but they were prepared for that._

_Parachuting into this place without anyone observing their aerial arrival couldn't keep it a secret. They'd been made even before the plane had taken off. Even before their arrival, someone had warned their target of their coming._

_It didn't matter. They were trained and seasoned, prepared to do whatever was required to take out their target . . . but all the training in the world hadn't prepared them for what was to come._

…

When he awoke, he was lying on the floor, bedding pulled down with him. One of the orderlies, the biggest one, was there along with Ensign Leslie. She had the syringe ready. He felt the sting on his hip and shortly, the walls seemed to waver and then began to dissolve and drip slowly downward as though liquefying. He watched in fascination as the seemingly solid surface melted into the darkness that waited for him.

Then, there was nothing.

…

The present:

Having turned in the rental car two days earlier to save a couple of bucks, they waited for their ride. Danny knew Steve would reimburse him for any expenses but it may be awhile before such realities could be brought up. The hotel and the plane ticket had put a serious dent in his budget. Their return flight had been booked using Steve's credit card. Danny had called Kono to have her arrange it.

The taxi pulled up in front of them. Danny smiled as the cabbie got out to stow the carry-on and Steve's duffle in the trunk and Steve waived him off and hefted it in himself. Danny clutched the other small piece of luggage tightly as though the nylon bag contained the crown jewels and climbed into the back of the cab. Steve stood gazing up at the building in which he'd stayed for the last few weeks.

"Steven, get in before we have to come up with 'standing-time' for this cab ride. I know you're more than willing to get outta this place."

McGarrett took one last look at the imposing building he hoped to never again enter. Never again . . . he'd make sure of it one way or another.

Clambering in, he slammed the door shut and the taxi sped off; taking its passengers to the world of the living.


	6. Before the Deluge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An incident in a crowded airport serves to illustrate Steve's alarming state of mind.

Night had fallen quickly. Danny had forgotten what it was like; how, in wintertime, there seemed to be no prelude to darkness. One moment it would be bright enough to read the fine print on a used car sales contract and the next you were looking for the light switch. At home, there would be warning of impending night. The sky would band with color before the sun sank below the horizon.

 _Home?_ Thought the detective startled at what he considered an unconscious faux paux. _Since when had that smoking piece of lava become home?_

It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't thought of Jersey as home for a while now. 'Home' was his daughter, his job, his Five-0 family, even his wreck of a partner.

He glanced over at his restless friend. The hubbub of the crowded airport seemed to be agitating him. Steve had taken his two-milligram dose of Ativan without protest before they left Maryland and it wasn't yet time for another hit.

Two days ago, in hope it would make Steve more responsive, Caldwell had lessened the dosage of the anti-anxiety drug that has a strong sedative effect. Unfortunately, one of the side effects of the drug is memory issues. The compassionate doctor was of the opinion that, with Danny around to run interference if needed, there was no need to keep his patient in such a zombie-like state

The detective was glad to feel the small vial of pills rattling around in his pocket. The doctor said if Steve got too stressed or anxious, to give him another two milligrams. Normally, it would have been impossible to get his stubborn partner to agree to any additional medication but Steve had given his word he would take it if needed.

In the small nylon bag was the other bottle of medication. Caldwell had pressed it into his hand silently as they left the hospital; a handwritten note regarding usage, dose, side-effects, etc. along with it. On the small bottle itself, was only a manufacturer's label. At the time, Danny couldn't question it but he'd have to have a talk with the doctor. As soon as they reached home, he would give him a call. _Why is it that anything to do with his ninja-SEAL partner was always so secretive and obscure?_

Just then, a deafeningly loud clap of thunder seemed to come from directly above the terminal. Their section of the immense, horseshoe shaped structure reverberated at the report that signaled a deluge. Sheets of water dashed themselves against the still vibrating, heavy glass walls. It was as though The Almighty was giving a heads-up about the end being closer than expected.

Lightning flashed and a woman screamed while from somewhere among the crowd a child began to wail. The detective saw Steve's body stiffen as he sat suddenly upright, looking around the terminal, eyes searching.

"Steve?" asked the blonde, "Something wrong?"

He received no answer, the SEAL continued to search his surroundings for something yet unseen. Danny recognized the look. It was Steve's 'adrenaline rush' face; the one he displayed right before charging into a firefight. But, this time, there’s something else in it. Something was going on with his friend. Something bad.

"Steve?" he asked again, the tall man ignoring him as though he wasn't sitting nearly shoulder-to-shoulder next to him.

"They're coming!" hissed the SEAL, body stiffened and tense, eyes nearly black with . . . fear?

"Who's coming, Steven? Tell me." said Danny in a near whisper. _This wasn't good. This wasn't even in the same universe as good._

" _They_ are coming!" hissed Steve as though it was the most stupid question ever asked. "We have to go before they find us!"

"Steve, it's OK. There's no one out there but scared mommies and their kids. No one's looking for us. We're safe!" Danny reached to put his hand on Steve's shoulder.

As soon as he started to reach toward him, Danny realized it was a mistake but it was too late. Steve's hand shot out to grab his wrist, his other arm wrapping around his partner's throat in a choke hold.

"STEVE! NO!" croaked out the detective, his windpipe painfully compressing under the pressure of Steve's grip. He struggled futilely to pry the sinewy arm loose as black spots began to float in his vision.

Steve was now in full-on SEAL mode. _Shit!_ , mouthed Danny hoping that wasn't really his last word to the world.

Someone across the way, witnessing the struggle, screamed loudly. The sound seemed to distract his partner for a millisecond. Danny used it to ram an elbow sharply into Steve's ribs, hoping not to feel the dull snap that would signal he'd broken it. The SEAL gasped and loosened his hold slightly.

Somehow managing to twist in the iron grip, Danny tumbled them both to the floor, landing on top of Steve before being thrown off; the SEAL rolling on top of him.

With his partner straddling his chest, arm raised and positioned to inflict what Danny knew would be a lethal strike, he practically saw his life flash before him. The eyes fastened on his reflected death itself.

"FREEZE! DON'T MOVE!" Danny heard from somewhere above them.

"STOP, OR WE’LL SHOOT!" rang another voice.

It was as though someone had pressed 'pause'. Everyone within earshot froze, not daring to breathe.

"Steve! Please! Stay still or they'll kill you! Please partner!" plead Danny in a loud whisper as his friend pinned him to the floor. He knew that if Steve so much as twitched, the two guards would cut him down and, depending on the accuracy of the shooters, he himself might be collateral damage.

The SEAL hesitated; movement interrupted as he sat atop his partner, poised like a coiled rattlesnake.

"Please don't. It's me Danny! It's Danno, buddy. Stop or they'll kill you!" The detective could see the dark, wild look beginning to fade. The security guards advanced.

"FREEZE DAMMIT OR YOU'RE DEAD!"

"No! Don't shoot him!" yelled Danny from his prone position. "It's OK! Just hold on! Give us a minute!"

"Steven, just let me up, buddy. It's OK. We're OK." he whispered frantically. The deadly expression slowly dissipated as the man atop him seemed to return from wherever he’d gone.

"Danny?" came a rasping voice.

"Yeah, babe. It's me Danny."

"Danny?" Steve looked down in confusion, eyes clearing as he finally seemed to recognize the man lying beneath him.

"Yeah, get off me you idiot." gasped the blonde. "There are some very tense security guys ready to go all terminator on your ass. Just put your hands up 'kay."

Now recognizing the dangerous situation he’d put himself in, Steve looked up at the men with the guns trained unwaveringly on his body. He raised his hands slowly as he slid off the man beneath him.

"Danny?" he said again in bewilderment.

"KNEEL NOW! HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!" shouted one of the two steely-eyed guards from a shooter's stance; safety off, gun pointed and finger on trigger. The words rang through the terminal.

"It's OK!" said Danny to the two airport security guards as he sat up slowly; hands raised as well. "Don't hurt him! He's a cop. We're friends. He's just . . . ", the detective was at a loss for words to explain what had just happened. He wanted the guards to relax and realize Steve was no danger to anyone. The incident had probably passed but how much does he tell them and is Steve really no longer a danger?

The tall man had obediently kneeled on the terrazzo, hands locked behind his head and ankles crossed. He was _very_ familiar with how this works.

The SEAL's eyes were closed and his head was down, Danny could see him breathing heavily, trying to regain some calm, dealing with the flood of adrenaline.

The detective himself could feel the aftereffects of its rush into his own system. His legs were trembling as he slowly sat up, hands in the air and assumed the same position as his partner, kneeling with his hands clasped behind his head and his ankles crossed.

He said to Steve, "It's safe now, babe. Just stay still and you'll be OK." he whispered to the man beside him. He didn't want to make the slightest mistake. These guys seemed to be a lot better at this than your average mall cops even if they were probably only contracted by O'Hare rather than direct-hire government employees.

Steve nodded almost imperceptibly, not opening his eyes, chest heaving.

"Look guys . . . " began Danny, turning toward the men with the big, scary, guns.

"Shut up!" was the loud, sharp order, "Let's see some I.D.!"

"Okay, okay, " said Danny in a placating tone. "Let me get it from my pocket. See, I'm moving slowly; just reaching into this pocket, no weapon of any kind." He said it with a sing-song quality, almost as if he were humoring them. He didn't want to have to change his opinion about the mall cop thing.

"Don't be a smartass!" said the man nearest him. Danny noticed he had not the slightest waver in the steadiness of his aim. From this side of a gun, the barrel looked to have the same diameter as a canon.

"Really, officer," he said as he carefully handed his badge and wallet to the man. "It's just a mistake, we're law enforcement. My partner hasn't had any sleep to speak of for at least a couple of weeks and he's kinda jumpy right now. It was just a misunderstanding. We're not armed."

"Kinda jumpy, huh? He almost killed you." snorted the guard, a muscular man of middle height who lowered his gun as his partner kept an unwavering bead on McGarrett.

"Let's see yours too." the order was addressed to Steve by the man apparently responsible for any official communication. The other guard, with the gun still pointed at them, never said a word after his initial cease and desist declaration.

 _What is this, Penn and Teller?_ thought the blonde.

"I said, let me see your I.D!" guard number one repeated as he took a step toward a quietly kneeling McGarrett who still hadn't raised his eyes.

"Let me get it!" quickly spoke Danny, "Just, uh, don't touch him right now."

The guard had started to reach toward the SEAL. He quickly withdrew the hand, asking, "What is he, a snake?"

"Just as deadly, he's a SEAL." Maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to say, the reference about Steve being deadly but he didn't know if his partner was all the way back yet. He knew it wouldn't be wise to startle the man. “Just give me a minute, I'll get his I.D. for you.”

The guard silently nodded his permission. _OK, so now, it's Teller and Teller?_ thought Danny who with hands still in the air, scooted on his knees across the smooth floor toward his partner, ignoring the slight twinge in the still iffy joint.

"Steven?" said Danny softly. "These nice security guards need to see your I.D. Will you let me get it out of your pocket?"

McGarrett still hadn't raised his head. Though Danny couldn't see his face, he knew Steve's eyes were still closed. The tall man nodded silently and slightly tilted his hip toward Danny so that he could access the pocket that held his badge and wallet.

The blonde, first glancing up at the guard to make sure they were still on the same page, received a nod and reached into his partner's pocket to pull out the I.D.

The guard Danny had decided to call Penn, stepped forward to take it from him.

Pale eyes checking it over carefully, Penn said, "Hawaii huh, you guys are a long way from home." After examining the shiny gold shields, he carefully inspected the accompanying I.D. Apparently satisfied all was legit he handed both sets back to the detective while still retaining a slightly skeptical expression. Gesturing to Teller to put his gun away, he stowed his own sidearm back into its holster.

"You know I should arrest you, right?" he said, gesturing to Danny to rise.

The blonde stood a little creakily and then turned to Steve asking, "Can I help you up?"

He got no answer but Steve uncrossing his ankles, brought his hands from behind his head and quickly stood unassisted. His face was unreadable as he finally looked up, but he was calm.

"Hey, thanks for not shooting us." smiled Danny to Penn.

"Yeah, I'd have won this month's trophy if I bagged one more." answered Penn facetiously as he stared curiously at the SEAL.

"You OK now?" he brusquely asked the tall man.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." answered Steve, his voice rough and a little gravely. "Sorry about the fuss."

"Get some sleep, Commander. I'm sure your partner would appreciate it. I'd strongly advise you to delay your departure to do so. You pull any of this shit on an air marshal and the outcome may be a lot different . . . understood?"

"Yes, thank you. I appreciate your restraint." said Steve, in a tone that sounded for all the world like the military man he is.

"I was in the service until a couple years ago." said Penn to both of them but Danny knew he was speaking specifically to Steve. "I know how rough it can be after you come home. Take care of yourself . . . and your partner."

"I will. Thank you." replied the SEAL, nearly saluting and adding the 'sir' at the end of the sentence.

Gesturing toward Teller, the men calmly strolled off to continue their duties.

Wondering how Penn even knew that Steve was recently back from deployment, Danny looked over at the tall man who, now that they were alone, allowed his face to register a stricken expression. He noticed also that, for some 'mysterious' reason, there were no other people within a very wide circle around them.

"I'm so sorry, Danny. I know I did something but I don't know what it was. Did I hurt anyone? Did I hurt you? Please tell me I didn't hurt anybody or you!" said Steve, looking on the verge of tears as he ran his hand shakily over his face.

"It's OK”, soothed Danny, “You didn't hurt anyone and, as far as I stand, the only thing hurt is my pride when you had me underneath you in front of Penn and Teller."

"Penn and Teller?" asked Steve not losing the distressed look on his face.

"Long story, babe. Let's go cancel our flight and book a hotel room for tonight. I'm pretty tired and it's indisputable that you could use the rest. As our little friend with the big gun stated, it's not a good idea to get on a plane right now."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. Not a good idea." said Steve, hands rubbing through his short hair; making it stick up in odd directions.

Danny hefted his carry-on as Steve took the duffle and slung it over his shoulder to follow him to the ticket counter. He ignored or just didn’t see the frightened stares he got from waiting passengers they passed on the way.

"We'll call room service and get something to eat." said Danny as they walked. He was very much aware of the stares following them as they strode away from the gate and the still jumpy travelers. "The hotel I'm thinking of has a killer hot-fudge sundae."

Danny knew his partner wouldn't usually agree to sweets but he also knew McGarrett may actually be tempted by the rich ice cream covered in hot fudge. At least it was a way to get some food into him. The detective had long ago discovered his health-freak partner's secret stash of chocolate in his freezer at home and had regularly raided it.

They went directly to the airline’s ticket counter to make their new flight arrangements after which Danny used his cell to book a room for the night. Everything in place, they walked out the sliding doors to the covered waiting area where they could snag a taxi. The freezing rain was still pelting down as they entered a cab.

He gave the name of the hotel to their cabbie and while the vehicle traveled along the wet highway the detective thought, _What could one night in Chicago hurt?_


	7. Speed Bump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve continues to struggle against something his friend has yet to discover.

They arrived at their hotel without further incident. Steve was quiet, though that really wasn't anything new. The cab ride from the airport was a longer trip than Danny had remembered from his last visit to the windy city.

The passing scenery seems somehow colder and grayer than he'd remembered it. It should feel like home. It should feel . . . normal. This was what he'd grown up with; this lack of color and vibrancy in wintertime. It’s nothing like the place he now calls home. Hawaii is all color and light. But somehow this grey, dismal, landscape seems appropriate to their current situation.

The cab pulled up to the front of the Drake; a pretty pricey hotel for a couple of cops but it’s one of the only places in town with a vacant room. There wasn't much choice. The National Hardware Show - an annual event with thousands of exhibitors and visitors was being held only a couple of miles from here at McCormick Place Convention Center. Again, a phone call to Kono and Steve's credit card was put to use.

Danny had last visited here as part of his honeymoon trip with Rachel. Though he certainly had other things to distract him at the time, he remembered the food. He and Rachel had been 'shacking up' for several months prior to their marriage. They laughed that their honeymoon was more an opportunity to enjoy the myriad of restaurants the city had to offer rather than one another’s company, (though that too had certainly been on the menu).

Slowly counting out the bills, Steve paid the cabbie and tipped him well. Anyone who had to be out working in this miserable weather deserved a little extra. He hefted his duffle over his shoulder and, pulling his jacket tighter around himself, followed Danny into the lobby.

The young woman at the front desk was courteous and efficient, giving them a lovely smile as she handed them their key cards. From the corner of his eye, Danny saw her checking out his partner. It wasn't anything new. Even though he needed a few more pounds on him right now, Steve is a strikingly good looking guy.

The tall man seemed oblivious to the woman's attention. If he'd been on his game, he'd have been flirting back. He very well knew his effect on the opposite sex and wasn't above using it to his advantage at times. The boyish charm came in handy at restaurants and various locations around the islands. Hell, the devastating smile had even been put to use when Hillary Chung, one of the assistant M.E.'s, had been assigned to process their crime scenes. They'd received the results of her findings even faster than if Max had been working the case.

If Steve had actually ever strayed, Danny knew nothing of it but he did know if Cath ever found out what her friend-with-benefits/boyfriend/whatever was capable of . . . well, it probably wouldn't be pretty. But today Steve was too distracted to employ his secret weapon.

When they got to their room, the SEAL immediately dropped his duffle to the floor and with a groan of exhaustion, flung himself onto the closest of the two beds and immediately closed his eyes, arms over his face.

"Hey, you okay?" asked the blonde as he watched his partner now laid-out on the bed like so much tattooed roadkill.

"Of course I'm okay. It was just a normal day for me: almost killing my best friend in the middle of an airport, almost getting shot by a couple of rent-a-cops in front of a hundred screaming children, yeah, I'm just fucking peachy . . . and you?"

"I'm okay . . . tired." sighed Danny, plopping tiredly onto the opposite bed and smoothing his hands through his long ago defeated coif. Turning his head toward the exhausted looking man on the bed next to his own he said, "Look, it's over with. We go on from here. No one got hurt, though I'm sure a couple of those people are gonna need to change their chonies. You can't let this stop the parade, babe. It's just a speed bump on the road to getting your life back."

"I'm sorry." suddenly exclaimed the tall man, sounding overcome by it all. He rolled onto his side to face away from his friend and bury his face in his hands. Trying to stifle what he’d consider an embarrassing outburst, he choke out, "I'm so sorry Danny!"

 _Oh crap,_ thought his partner in alarm. "Hey, hey, I told you I'm good. Honest, I'm fine, everyone's fine Steven. You didn't hurt me. You didn't hurt anyone else. All you did was give Penn and Teller something to tell the wife and kids about when they get home tonight."

"Penn and Teller?" rasped Steve from behind his hands, breath hitching in his mighty inward struggle for control.

Steve's emotionality was nearly as weird and distressing as the near catatonic state he'd been in when Danny first saw him at Quantico. The detective fought the urge to comfort his partner, to put arms around his lost friend and try to keep the pieces together. Steve was embarrassed enough already and sadly, Danny wasn't even sure anymore if it was safe to touch him when he was so upset.

Not knowing what else to do, he picked up the phone to order some hot fudge sundaes from room service.

….

The rest of the evening went calmly enough. Steve even agreed to eat some of the burger his partner had ordered for him along with a few fries. Danny made sure he took his meds which made him loopy enough to not even protest when his partner ordered him to bed as though he were talking to his nine-year-old daughter.

As soon as he lay down his head, he was immediately asleep; not even bothering to draw the blankets over himself before becoming unconscious.

Five hours ahead of Hawaii time, Danny made his nightly phone call to his daughter. She asked about visiting her uncle Steve as soon as they got home. Danny had been prepared for the request and gave her his rehearsed story about how busy her uncle would be for a while until he caught up on all his crime-fighting chores. He felt bad lying to her but, for now, it was for the best. The remark from Steve's doctor and what he'd seen today at the airport made him uneasy that his daughter would see Steve before he was ready. He hoped he wouldn't have to explain it to Steve. He had no idea how he would do so.

Sighing, he set the phone on the night stand and got ready for bed, stopping to pull the blankets up over his sleeping partner. Yup, it was like having two nine-year-olds. At least it was a role he was comfortable with. In sleep, Steve did look much younger. The tenseness gone from his features, his thin face looked boyish. Danny sometimes forgot they were actually the same age. In ways, Steve always seemed so much more older.

Though his own life experience as a cop was certainly no picnic, his partner had been fighting for nearly his entire life. Fighting for his country, fighting to keep to keep his island safe.

Now he was fighting for himself.

Sighing once more in weariness, Danny shut off the light and closed his eyes.

…..

The sounds began softly at first. Murmurings and frantic whispers that barely registered on Danny's consciousness before louder words roused him from his sleep a little after midnight. Groaning, he sat up to look over at the next bed. There was enough light coming through the half-drawn drapes to see Steve tossing and turning, talking to someone unseen.

"No, please don't!" were the mumbled words Danny could make out as Steve actually put his hands up in a defensive gesture. "No! Stop!" he said more clearly. Then came words in a language he didn't understand but he gathered they were saying pretty much the same thing.

"NO!" Steve screamed out as he sat up abruptly, eyes wild and searching frantically around him.

"Steve! It's just a dream! It's okay! You're just dreaming!" soothed Danny as he jumped out of bed and rushed to his friend's side, knowing that trying to touch him at this moment could be disastrous.

"Stop! Please stop!" and then more of the foreign language as Steve scrambled out of bed. Making a keening sound he backed away from his partner, trying to get as far from him as possible, his face twisted in anguish.

"Steven, you're safe! We're in a hotel in Chicago. You're safe, nothing is going to hurt you! Please, buddy, calm down. It's me, Danny, I won't let anything happen. Remember? We're on our way home? Shh, it's alright now."

"Nooo" keened the tall man now having reached the wall. Flattening himself against it, his hands behind him seemed to be scrabbling for an exit. Danny could hear fingernails scraping against wallpaper as Steve’s breaths came in frantic gasps.

"Shh, Steven, please wake up, it's just a dream. You're in Chicago. You're with me, Danny, your friend. You're safe now. Nothing is going to hurt you."

The blonde kept up the litany of soothing words and entreaty to wake. After a few more tense moments, Steve finally started to calm. His respiration slowed and his eyes became focused on his actual surroundings instead of the ones in his head. His clothes and hair were soaked with sweat and he trembled almost violently. Slowly, his gaze focused on his partner’s face and a look of recognition supplanted the one of terror.

"Danny?"

There was his name again said as if the one word contained salvation.

"Yeah, yeah, Steven. It's me, Danny" he said, daring to come closer to the man still plastered against the wall.

"Wha . . . what happened?" was the shaky question.

"Just a dream, babe. Just a bad dream. It's okay now. Everything's okay now."

"Di . . did I hur . . . hurt you?" came the question stuttered between panted breaths.

"No, not even close. I'm fine. You're fine. Don't worry about it. It was just a dream. It's over now." soothed the blonde.

Steve released from his tense posture and slid down the wall, drawing his knees close to his body and wrapping his arms around them.

"It was so real." he breathed, more to himself than to his partner who crouched close to him but still not touching. "It was so fucking real." His chest heaved trying to bring in enough oxygen to clear his head of the horror that hadn't yet left him. He ran his hands over his face as though attempting to wipe away terrors that remained.

"It was just a dream, Steven. Just a bad dream. It's over now." soothed Danny in comforting repetition.

His friend's breathing slowed as he sat on the floor for several more minutes trying to clear his mind and regain some composure.

"You okay now?" asked Danny gently, standing and offering his hand to pull his friend from the floor. The cold hand took the offered warm one and Steve stood shakily.

Sitting on his bed, the SEAL fought to gain control, pushing his sweat soaked hair back with both hands. Taking a shuddering breath he asked pleadingly, "Danny, could you get me a glass of water? Maybe with some ice in it?”

"Sure, of course. The ice machine's just down the hall. Be right back." The blonde man grabbed the plastic ice bucket and his key card from the desk near the window. Already attired in sweats, he hurried out the door on his errand.

As soon as the door clicked behind his friend, McGarrett sprang from the bed and quickly strode to the closet, grabbing pants and boots, hurriedly donning them, having the presence of mind to also retrieve his wallet from the top of the nightstand.

Returning with the now filled ice bucket, the detective nearly dropped it when he saw his partner dressed and looking ready to leave instead of to return to bed.

"You going somewhere, babe?" he asked carefully, narrowing pale blue eyes as he set the ice filled container on the bed.

"I . . . I have to get out of here, Danny. I have to go away before I hurt somebody, before I hurt you or Kono or Chin or even Gracie. I'm not safe to be around. I'm not what you think I am. I don't want to hurt anyone, please! Let me go!" he plead.

"You, my friend, are going nowhere! You need to sit your ass back on that bed. I made a promise to you and to myself that I would help you get through this and I'll be damned if you're going to make me break it! Now, knock it off. You're not leaving!"

"Can't stay. Please don't make me hurt you. Please. I have enough blood on my hands!" Steve’s voice broke then, tears pooling once again in dark, hazel-blue, eyes. "Please, I'm begging you, let me go."

"Not happening, Rambo." said the blonde, knowing that Steve could probably dispatch him in a nanosecond but he wasn't going to make it easy. If the idiot was going to leave, he'd have to do it the hard way. He braced himself.

 


	8. Synchronicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dashing out in the middle of a snowstorm isn't a good idea but 'synchronicity'.
> 
> Google defines it as the simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection.
> 
> or:
> 
> 'In every moment the Universe is whispering to you'*

 

It took only a quick moment. A blink of an eye and Danny was on his face on the carpet, his arm twisted painfully behind him. Steve may have been out of it but it hadn't lessened his lethal moves.

"Let me up, you moron!" yelped the blonde to the man whose knee pressed painfully into the small of his back.

"Danny, I don't want to hurt you. I have to get out of here for a while. There's too much going on in my head. There's too much to remember . . . I . . . I can't do that right now. Please." pleaded the distraught man, "Let me leave!"

"Steven, you're not leaving my sight. I don't care what kind of ninja-SEAL moves you use. You're not going out there alone! Now let me up! Right now! I mean it!"

Danny only heard what sounded like an amused huff from his friend as Steve stood and released him.  But he didn't get up fast enough. Before he could even roll over, the SEAL was out the door.

Ignoring the twinge in his knee, he quickly regained his feet and rushed out the door only seconds behind his friend. Charging into the hallway, he saw the stairway door at the end of it close.

His feet couldn't fly fast enough toward it. Reaching it and flinging it open, he looked down from the landing and saw a flash of dark hair and navy blue two flights below. By the time he'd even made it to the first landing on the next set of stairs, Steve was gone.

Fuck!

….

The neon lights advertising tarot card reading blinked feebly from a storefront window in the freezing night. It was one of the many small businesses that lined the narrow side street off Michigan Avenue. The others were all closed, it was almost two A.M. Danny wondered what the card reader's regular hours were. Maybe these were special 'winter hours'? What would possess someone to have their cards read at this time of night, err, morning?

He idly thought that maybe seeing the reader could help him find Steve. There wasn't much else they could do other than drive the streets hoping to get a glimpse of the idiot. He didn’t have a cell phone on him.

The late night drive reminded Danny of the time his sweet-natured but easily distracted dog went for an unauthorized stroll in the middle of the night in Newark. He and Rachel had done just this, driven the streets until dawn. Finally giving up, they went home in defeat to find the mutt sitting happily on the front step, wagging his tail after his nocturnal adventure.

Maybe if they went back to the Drake, they'd find Steve sitting there with that 'what?' look on his face that he used when he knew Danny was pissed at him. He’d never admit it but it did take some of his anger away to see that goofy expression. He sighed tiredly as his eyes searched the frigid darkness for the tall, spare figure of his best friend.

Danny knew that wherever the idiot is, he'd be cold. The temp had dropped and what had been rainfall, then sleet, was now giant wet blobs of snow splatting on the windshield of the sedan.

Danny shivered in the heavy coat, maybe not even for himself. Steve had to be freezing. All he'd been wearing were Levi's and a long-sleeved sweatshirt. At least his boots offered more protection than sneakers – though surely not enough.

Chicago is a big town and his partner could be anywhere in it. In parts of it, it wasn't safe to wander alone. In parts of it, it wasn't safe to wander with a platoon of marines.

They'd been searching for what seemed hours, (though, in reality, just since half past midnight or so). The only one Danny trusted enough to help find his friend without it turning into a clusterfuck of a standoff was the man sitting beside him confidently guiding the big car through the slippery streets; one hand on the wheel and the other wrapped around a Styrofoam cup.

The burly man had been one of the first guys he'd ever partnered with back in Newark. Bill had moved on to the big city, (or bigger city), when his wife of several years had been promoted to a higher position within the national chain of home center stores that employed her. Fortunately, along with the prestigious title came a prestigious paycheck.

Not wanting to rain on his wife's parade and aware of the advantages of having a few extra bucks in the bank, Bill, who after nearly twenty years if marriage was still stone in love with the woman, had agreed to move to where her company was headquartered. He'd bid a sad goodbye to his comrades and followed his beloved.

He could have retired then but he'd long since come to the conclusion he was a 'lifer'. Quickly securing a job with Chicago PD he'd been here ever since.

The big detective had offered to put out a BOLO on McGarrett but Danny had declined. He knew considering Steve's current state of mind, (and the man's almost uncanny ability to find trouble), the chance of something going drastically wrong was a strong one. Better to do the searching on his own with the help of his ex-partner.

"So, Tiger," asked the man behind the wheel, his eyes continually scanning for McGarrett as he spoke, "What's it like living in paradise?"

"You mean the one on the smoking pile of lava surrounded by miles of shark infested water?" asked the blonde man in the passenger seat whose nickname 'Tiger' would never be known outside the vehicle in which they now rode.

"Come on, Danny. Hawaii can't be all that bad." chided O'Mara. The big man was familiar with his ex-partner's griping. He'd heard a saying once that applied perfectly to the tough little detective – 'You'd bitch if you wuz hung with new rope'. Yup, that was Danny Williams, aka Tiger.

"Okay, okay’, grudgingly conceded the blonde. "It might be okay at times. Gracie really likes it. She's even learned to surf."

"Gracie?" gasped the big man in astonishment. "She's old enough to surf?"

"Yeah well, everyone there seems to think so." huffed Danny as if even thinking about his baby on a piece of fiberglass coated styrofoam in the churning waters of the Pacific Ocean was too frightening to even consider. "Steve and Kono had her up on a board two months after I joined Five-0."

"I can't believe you let your little girl get into water that has actual sharks in it."

"Yeah, sharks, stinging jellyfish, poisonous sea snakes . . . you're right, she's never going near water again unless it's in the bathtub."

"That's my boy." smiled Bill. It was almost as though his feisty ex-partner had never left. He'd missed the little tough-guy. "So, this partner of yours, what's going on with him? Why'd he split?"

"Steve . . . " began the detective, " . . . well, the guy's a force of nature and the biggest badass mofo that ever lived but he's um . . . he’s got issues right now – serious ones. He just got out of the hospital a couple of days ago after coming back trashed from deployment in fuck-knows-where and we were on our way back to Honolulu. He had some nightmares that kinda set him on edge and he said he had to get away for a while."

Danny didn't want to violate Steve's privacy but he felt he owed O'Mara an explanation. It was only right considering the frantic phone call had pulled the man from a warm bed on a miserable night that would freeze the balls off a badger.

"I take it his issues aren't all physical?" asked O'Mara; ever the astute detective. "PTSD?"

"Yeah, most likely. It's been pretty fucked-up lately for him. Hell, things've been fucked-up for most of his life but he'd always been able to keep it together until . . . " he trailed off, tiredly rubbing his hand over his stubbled jaw.

"Something happened when he was out on some classified secret squirrel mission to wherever classified hell-hole he'd been sent a few weeks ago. I know I'd mentioned in past conversations that he's a Navy SEAL and he's in the reserves. He gets called up every so often when they need someone with his skills which I can only guess at since he won't tell me because he says he'd have to kill me if I knew. That may or may not be a joke bye-the-way; but when he came back this time . . . ", Danny paused momentarily to draw his lips into a grim line before letting out a tired breath to say". . . this time, he's a mess."

"Don't worry. We'll find 'im.” reassured Bill. “He can't get that far. You said he didn't even have a jacket when he left?"

"Yeah but the man's used to deprivation crap. Who the hell would voluntarily get up before dawn every morning, run five fucking miles and then go swimming for an hour . . . in the friggin' ocean no less!" Danny's hands had begun their usual dance.

"That's just so wrong." said O'Mara, shaking his head and clucking as Williams did nearly the same next to him; the two resembling synchronized bobble-head dolls.

Beefy hands turned the wheel as the sedan continued its way on the sparsely traveled streets. Eyes searched alleys and doorways for the elusive man who wanted to lose himself in the windy city.

…

He’d run for what seemed miles. For the last few, he'd been pelted with stinging pellets of sleet that struck the back of his neck and felt like thousands of little needles. He didn't know how long he'd been out here. He guessed it was awhile because, somehow, he'd gotten all the way to the Wrigley Building. But there it was, looming in front of him; its white façade glowing through the torrent of icy rain.

The frozen deluge was coming down so hard now that he couldn't even see across the river that ran right next to it. He pretty much couldn't feel his feet. He knew that wasn't good.

Blinking and squinting against the sleet he made out a passing taxi and raised a hand to hail it. It slowed but had actually gone past him before stopping. There was a brief hesitation but then the the back-up lights glowed as the driver put the vehicle in reverse; the orange cab coming to a stop in front of him.

The SEAL knew it looked at least a little odd - a guy dressed only in jeans and a soggy sweatshirt standing out in the middle of a storm. To be able to avail himself of this suddenly presented mode of transportation, there had to be some sort of synchronicity going on. He'd needed a cab and there it was.

Opening the door and sliding into the heated car, he pulled out a wet wad of bills to allay any fears the cabbie may have had about picking up such an iffy passenger. Handing a couple of twenties to the man behind the wheel, he said, "Take me to a bar."

"What kind of bar you like?" asked the cabbie in a thick accent. It startled his passenger. It sounded familiar. He'd heard it long before he'd woken up in the hospital in Germany. He vaguely remembered hearing the same lilt in the dialect spoken by one of the people who'd found him and taken him to get help. He'd never learned that person's name and, at the time, he'd been too out of it to ask but he remembered the accent.

Zafir Ibrahim hoped picking up this fare wasn't a mistake but the tall guy looked miserable and something would surely happen to him wandering around without a jacket in the middle of this freezing night. It didn't seem right to leave him to expire in the cold. He tried again.

"I ask what kind of bar you like?" repeated the cabbie, _Maybe picking up this poor man wasn't such a good idea_.

"Uhh" muttered Steve, trying to shake off a memory before getting on to the task of a reply.

"You like bars with girls maybe?" His soggy passenger hadn't yet answered so the cabbie went on to the next category, "Maybe bars with boys? I know of such places too. Just tell me, I take you there."

Steve smiled then, "No bars with anyone. Just a safe place to drink. A place where I don't have to worry about getting rolled as soon as I get wasted. That's the plan anyway . . . what is your name?"

"Zafir, my name is Zafir."

"Ah, nice name. That means victorious, doesn't it?"

"You speak Urdu?"

"A little. Enough to get by.” smiled Steve, “Anyway, that's the plan, Zafir. I want to get incredibly drunk without being mugged."

The cabbie shook his head. Imagine, meeting an ajnabi in the middle of a storm in Chicago who spoke his language and knew what his name meant. _Allah works in mysterious ways_ , he thought, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

"No worries my friend. I take you to nice place with nice people. You can get as drunk as you want there. No one will harm you."

"Thanks, that sounds great, Zafir" answered the tall man shivering in his soggy sweatshirt.

Putting the vehicle in drive, Zafir Ibrahim of Kandahar pulled his cab away from the curb and into the night to take this strange man to a bar where it was safe to get lost in a bottle.

…..

The night grew even colder. What had been wet snow, was now a proper East Coast Winter blitz. The roads that were still open had become treacherous with ice. It took only a slight miscalculation or lapse in attention and one could wind up in a ditch or in a pile of intermingled metal with another unfortunate driver or two. Zafir had the misfortune to meet such a vehicle as he powerlessly watched the scenery go by - sideways.

There was absolutely nothing that could be done but hang on and hope for the best as the tires found no purchase on the glassy roadway. They weren't going very fast; it seemed to happen in slow motion. In the flash of headlights he could see the horrified expression on the big man’s face and on the face of the smaller man beside him.

There was a thud and a crunch as the two sedans met in a slow-speed collision.

 _Crap! My cab is almost paid off!_ He knew he shouldn't have tried to work tonight. He didn't really need the money. Rent had already been paid and the other bills weren't due until the end of the month. But something made him restless and he'd decided to go out and pick up a few fares. Certainly it had been lucky for that tall guy who spoke Urdu that he had been out driving in this storm. Maybe it was Allah's plan for him . . . for both of them. Whatever. Right now he had to deal with a very large, angry looking, man who stood in the snow staring at his damaged car.

"I knew I shoulda stayed in bed!" said the big man disgustedly as he tried to pull crumpled metal away from the tire so that his unfortunate vehicle could be driven.

He turned to the olive-skinned man who sloshed toward him with paperwork in hand to exchange information. He wasn't mad at the little guy. Shit happens, especially in the middle of fucking snowstorms when he should be at home cuddled next to his wife instead of driving all over the fucking city looking for Danny's nut-case of a partner wandering around without even a fucking jacket – IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING SNOWSTORM!

"I am so sorry." apologized the cabbie who now stood beside him looking at the ruined fender.

"Eh, shit happens" was the frustrated reply, "Let's just get out of this storm so we can exchange information. There's an all-night coffee shop on the next corner. Looks like your cab made out better than my car. Meet you there."

The coffee shop was nearly deserted. _It's deserted because anyone with half a brain is at home right now_ , thought Danny as he ordered coffee for himself, Bill and their sudden, new friend. He rubbed his hands across his wind-burned face. The longer Steve was missing, the more time the idiot had to get into real trouble . . . if not freeze to death.

"You look tired my friend." said Zafir to the blonde on the other side of the table as he pushed his paperwork toward the big, red-haired, man who in turn slid his information across the Formica toward him.

"Been out looking for a friend for most of the night." was the tired reply.

"Is he lost?" asked Zafir curiously.

"You could say that." sighed the blonde.

"It's a very bad night to be lost. It is very cold to be out without a very heavy jacket. I just dropped off a fare I found standing outside the Wrigley Building. The crazy man had no jacket! He wore nothing but Levis and a sweatshirt. He was lucky I saw him in the storm."

There was a brief moment when the two cops looked at each other, both with the exact same thought, _No fucking way!_

"This guy you picked up . . . what did he look like?" asked Danny, his heart beginning to thud a little faster.

"Well . . . he was tall, he had dark hair . . . and he spoke Urdu. It was quite a surprise to find such a person."

Bill looked doubtfully at Danny who now looked about to rocket out of the room.

"Steve speaks a lot of different languages. I don't even know how many, Urdu could be one of them." said Danny to his ex-partner who still didn't look convinced it could be their wayward man.

"Where did you take this guy?" asked Bill, snapping back into detective mode.

"He said he wanted to get very drunk in a safe place. I took him to Scrappy's. It's on . . . "

"I know where it is." interrupted Bill, throwing down some bills onto the table and yelling to the waitress as he and Danny rushed toward the door. "Rhonda, bring this guy the biggest piece of pie you have."

"Hell, bring him the whole pie!" said Danny as he rushed out the door after the big man.

Zafir Ibrahim only shook his head as he took a sip of the hot, strong coffee and watched the two hurry out the door. _This is a very strange night indeed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This quote attributed to Denise Linn


	9. Slow Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny desperately searches for Steve in the wilds of Chicago during a snowstorm. Help is enlisted to find him before he self-destructs.

The bar is nothing special. Neither too tawdry nor too upscale, it's just a rather dimly lit little neighborhood hole-in-the-wall. They spotted him as soon as they walked in. Alone in a corner booth, a single shot glass and a bottle sitting on the scarred tabletop in front of him; he sat staring into space. His gaze is focused on something in the middle distance but whatever he's seeing isn't in this room.

The bartender recognized Bill as soon as they walked in brushing snow off their coats. Difficult to miss with his bright red hair and six-foot-four body of muscle and what some call 'hard' fat, Detective Sergeant Bill O'Mara is as solid as a concrete and steel-reinforced outhouse.

"Hey Billy!" smiled the balding barman as he draped a towel over one shoulder and gave a casual salute in greeting.

"Frankie!" smiled Bill as he strode toward the bar, choosing to give Danny room to confront Steve on his own.

As he slowly approached the booth the blonde detective studied his partner's face. Steve looked pale and worn. The dark stubble on his chin emphasized the pallor of his complexion. Hair that had obviously been subjected to the elements clung closely to his skull with errant clumps curling upward as it dried. A still soggy sweatshirt clung to his spare body. Danny wondered how Steve had even managed to survive being outdoors without a jacket. The storm had morphed from sheets of cold rain to stinging pellets of sleet and was now a full-on snowstorm.

"Steven?" he said as he came to a stop near his partner's elbow. The man hadn't even seemed to notice that he was standing right beside him

"Hey, partner, how you doin'?", carefully inquired the detective. "You kinda freaked me out when you took off like that."

Glassy, bloodshot eyes turned to look him up and down. Silently, Steve raised the shot glass to his lips and downed most of its contents in one gulp before setting the small, heavy, tumbler onto the table with a thump.

Then, seeming to abruptly come back to the here and now, his eyes focused on the worried face hovering near and he exclaimed happily, "Hey, Danno!"

"Hey, Steven." replied Danny in a more subdued way than his drunkenly exuberant partner.

"Have a drink with me, brah! It's pretty good for the cheap stuff." His eyes were glazed and his grin lopsided but it was welcoming enough.

"At this point, my friend, anything that wasn't distilled yesterday in a bathtub would probably seem pretty good to you. Maybe we should get back to the hotel, buddy. According to the weather reports, the storm may let up enough for us to catch a flight out tomorrow sometime. We need to get you to bed. Aren't you cold? You don't even have a jacket on, you idiot."

"Mm not cold." slurred Steve, "drank too much to be cold . . . too much to be anything" he laughed; amused at his own private joke.

"Yeah, I bet." agreed Danny, frowning as he took in the nearly empty bottle that sat next to the shot glass.

"C'mon Danno, have a drink with me. We should get drunk together. We haven't done that since . . . in a long time."

"I think you've got a pretty good head-start on me, partner. Besides, one of us has to remember which hotel we're at." Danny sat and signaled for the barmaid; a tired looking middle-aged blonde wearing a top that revealed a rather leathery looking cleavage. She'd probably been quite the looker a few years ago. Now she appeared as worn as her surroundings.

"Hey, Paula", greeted Steve as she came up to them, a tray of empty beer mugs balanced on a forearm.

"Meet my partner Danny”, slurred Steve. “He's a cop. He's a really good cop - not like me."

"I'm glad Danny's here." smiled Paula tiredly. "I think you've had enough for tonight, sweetie." Turning to the blonde man she said, "Frank and I were about ready to go through his pockets to see who we could call to come get him. He seems like a nice kid. We should've cut him off a long time ago but he said he had someone who'd come for him. Said he was waiting for Danno. That's you, right?"

Danny nodded in confirmation and then rolled his eyes at his inebriated partner who only smiled drunkenly back at him; the crooked grin looking even goofier with a snootfull of whiskey behind it.

"C'mon Danno, don't be a par…party pooper. Have a drink with me. Paula will bring it to you. Paula's really nice."

"Sweetie, if I was even ten years younger . . . and you were a lot more sober . . . I'd show you how nice I could be." she said with a tired chuckle as she winked suggestively toward Danny.

Steve loudly guffawed, nearly doubling over at the barmaid's remark. He straightened to give her one of his trademarked grins; that one could melt the heart of The Venus de Milo and solve the mystery of the Mona Lisa's smile.

"Honey,” she addressed the blonde man, “You'd better get your friend home before I change my mind about that age requirement." With an amused chuff and weary shake of her head Paula removed the now empty bottle from the tabletop and put it on her laden tray.

Danny reluctantly acquiesced to his partner's invitation saying, "OK, Rambo, I'll have a drink with you, but just the one, and then we blow this place and go pour you into bed. You are gonna be one sorry puppy tomorrow, buddy."

Steve grinned even more widely and said to Paula, "Br…bring my friend a bottle of . . . "

"A bottle of MG draught" finished Danny. He thought Steve might be ordering another bottle of whiskey which wasn't even remotely wise at this point.

With a salacious wink, Paula went off to get the beer, the mugs on her tray clinking loudly as she walked to the other side of the narrow room to set them on the bar.

Danny took a seat opposite Steve. He looked over to where Bill was engrossed in deep conversation with the bartender. It was probably best to let him be for now. They seemed to be having a good time despite the late hour.

The barmaid came back with his beer and Danny laid a couple of bills on her tray. She smiled at him, mouthing, "Good luck, honey." as she walked away.

They sat silently for a few minutes; Danny picking at the edges of the napkin under the beer bottle and Steve staring into the amber liquid left in his glass.

"Danny?"

"Umm?"

"Do you think God is in the desert?"

Taken aback by the seriously strange question, the detective didn't know if or what he should answer. But, taking in the earnest searching look from the other side of the table he figures he needs to come up with an something. He knows what Steve needs to hear. Ignoring his own somewhat agnostic leanings, after a short pause he replied, "I think God is everywhere, Steven. Why are you asking this?"

The SEAL's glazed hazel eyes seemed to look inward before focusing once again on Danny's worried pale blue gaze.

Steve was trying to decide which of his relentlessly racing thoughts he'd capture. There were so many things he couldn't stop thinking about. So many voices that needed to be silenced. He'd tried to drink them away and the alcohol had slowed and quieted them a little but they were still there; screaming and springing across his mind like terrified rabbits.

Exhaling shakily then taking a breath he began, "When I was there, in a cave, I prayed really hard but . . . ", he hesitated before shaking his head sadly and saying, "it never happened."

The detective looked into his partner's drawn face, knowing he had to ask the question.

"What did you pray for?" he asked quietly; knowing he would probably cringe at whatever his drunken friend came up with.

"I prayed to die." came the blunt, breath-stealing answer.

Danny felt his blood freeze. He reached out to put his hand on his partner's arm, feeling tight muscle grow tighter beneath his touch despite the alcohol.

"Steven . . . ", he croaked out through an achingly tense throat, "Why did you want to die?"

Steve was becoming increasingly bleary-eyed, beginning now to sway slightly in his chair.

"I was the only one left. I should . . . I should'a died. If was killed first, the baby would still be alive. How could I still be alive and that poor baby dead? Why would God let that happen? WHY?!" he angrily demanded, slamming his hand down on the table loud enough to make both Bill and the bartender glance toward them to make sure nothing too physical was going on.

In the few times Danny had seen his partner soused, Steve wasn't a maudlin drunk. While not necessarily the life of the party, he'd usually relax enough to become talkative and cheerful.

Outburst suddenly over, Steve once again stared silently into the shot glass as though the answer lay at the bottom of it.

After waiting patiently for several minutes Danny said, "You need to talk to me, partner. You need to tell me why you're so upset."

Finally in a soft voice Steve began, "Before they . . . left me alone, they said I was crazy for even thinking I'd go home again. I ignored what they told me but, later, I realized they were right. I should have gone with them."

"Babe, you survived. You came home. You were right to ignore what they told you."

"No, they were right." asserted Steve, now eerily calm though no less earnest. "You know, they still te. . tell me that sometimes to remind me." he sighed, shaking his head from side to side as if to empty the sound of long dead voices from it. "They won't shut up. They won't leave me alone."

Danny's gut did a backflip; a full-on triple fucking backflip.

"When?" he asked with dread, "When do they talk to you, Steven?"

Steve looked down at his hands; studying them before he looked up, eyes stricken and liquid. "When . . . when I try to sleep. Mostly when I try to sleep . . . Oh, Danny!" he suddenly gasped, reaching across the table to grip his partner's forearm so hard it actually hurt. Danny didn't flinch.

"They won't let me sleep! All those voices . . . and the . . . the screams. They won't let me sleep . . . and I'm so . . . so tired!" The pooled tears escaped one by one to slide slowly down his lean face.

He released Danny from his grip and buried his head in his folded arms resting on the table's scarred surface.

Danny's tears trailed down his own face as he reached to rub a circle on his partner's back. It's something he'd done many times in the past for distraught children encountered during his law enforcement career. He crooned the soft nonsensical words he'd sometimes use for his own daughter when she was upset or any other child who needed it.

He knew the booze was messing with Steve's mind. It was also a very, very, bad idea to combine alcohol with the other medications. Four milligrams of Ativan and a bottle of whiskey was a Judy Garland cocktail. Far too many people had made the mistake of combining alcohol and drugs with sometimes fatal results.

Still, his partner was never this open about anything. Though as close as brothers, Danny knew that, even as a brother, this conversation would never have taken place if it weren't for the booze.

"Steven, let's get you back to the hotel, OK? I think you need to dry off, get warm, and try to sleep. There's that drug that helps you with that, right? You'll be able to sleep without anyone talking to you."

His distraught and drunken partner didn't reply. Though he'd quieted, he didn't raise his head.

Sighing tiredly, Danny muttered, "Buddy, you are going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow . . . make that later today", he amended after glancing at his watch.

The blonde turned and nodded to Bill who now sat at a corner table nursing a beer of his own. Danny would have to do something nice for his old partner as a thank you for his help, (and his understanding, not to mention the need for auto repair).

The big man ambled over to the table, waiting patiently for Danny to tug Steve to his feet. This time, despite of the SEAL's previously exhibited and seriously freaky ability to hold his liquor, (Danny had actually seen the man down numerous straight shots and still manage to look as though he'd never touched a drop). This time, Steve was utterly and completely shit-faced.

After being pulled to his feet, the SEAL swayed unsteadily before suddenly realizing there was someone unfamiliar standing next to him. Startled, he took a wild swing at the mountain of a man and missed completely. Bill grabbed his arm and laughed, "Whoa, buddy. Let's get you back to the car, OK? We don't want to have to call out the 'real' cops."

"Fucking cops." slurred Steve who, with one eye closed, looked up at the man who smiled benignly down at him and apparently decided that launching another attack wasn't such a good idea. "You know, I . . . I'm a fucking cop? They let anyone be cops these days . . . even me."

Danny just shook his head and taking Steve's other arm, they steered him toward the exit. Other than the bartender, they were the only ones still in the place. Paula had gone home for the night, possibly to dream of the handsome dark-haired man who'd found his way into her workplace.

As they passed the lone man wiping down the tables and straightening up, the shorter of the two detectives reached for his wallet to settle Steve's tab.

"We're good." said Frank, "Your friend already took care of his tab. He slapped down a big handful of twenties and I'll be damned if he didn't drink most of it." smiled the barkeep. "I actually owe him about twenty or so in change. That guy is gonna be in some serious pain tomorrow."

He's already in pain, thought Danny before tiredly smiling, "Just keep it. You earned it."

Frank nodded his thanks, saying, “Hope your friend feels better tomorrow."

They wrestled a stumbling Steve out to the curb and practically stuffed him into the car as he mumbled to himself about SEALs and cops and whatever else Danny couldn't make out right now.

"He's not gonna ralph in my car is he?" asked Bill as he critically eyed the man who now seemed to be holding a conversation with himself in the back seat of the Ford that had already endured its share of misfortune for the night.

"Don't think so, he's always been pretty good about being able to hold his liquor – though tonight may be the exception. I'll watch him. Be ready to pull over if it comes to that."

As they made their way through the night filled with falling snow, Danny closely monitored his friend for any sign of impending eruptions.

Luckily, been no need to pause on their journey to the hotel. Using the authority conferred by his badge, Bill parked the sedan at the curb in front of the Drake's main entrance. At this hour, and in this weather, it certainly wasn't in the way of any traffic.

Getting Steve into the car was one thing, getting him out of it was another. After repeated attempts to rouse him enough to get out on his own, Bill finally lost patience and just pulled him out by the legs. Throwing the SEAL over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he strode to the main entrance.

The uniformed doorman, rightly assuming that law enforcement is involved, (he'd seen many things during his years at this job), inquired politely, "May I be of assistance, officer?"

"Just keep an eye on the hoopty for a couple minutes, wouldja?" asked the big Chicago detective, pausing to adjust his burden so that Steve didn't slide off his shoulder and land on his head.

"It'll be here when you get back." replied the doorman, giving a casual salute as he held open the door.

Marching through the lobby, the strange trio got a raised eyebrow from the kid at the front desk. Doing his duty, he buzzed security then marched bravely across the patterned carpet to ask, "Is there something I can help you with, gentlemen?"

"No, no, we're just getting this guy back to his room. He's had a little too much to drink." Taking a hand off of his cargo Bill reached into his pocket to retrieve his CPD shield to flash at the kid who, though he had to be older, looked about fourteen, his teeth still encumbered by braces and his complexion spotty. Danny took his own badge out though he didn't know if the kid would be impressed by one that had 'Hawaii' on it.

"Oh, okay officers. Just had to make sure the man was still breathing."

"No worries kid. He's breathing but we gotta get him up to the room before he wakes up and decides to make a break for it again."

When the desk clerk looked questioningly at the big red haired cop the small blonde one shrugged and said, "Long story."

The young night clerk knew that guests returning from an evening on the town in varying states of sobriety weren't unusual. What is unusual is someone the size of a refrigerator carrying another man across the lobby like a bag of laundry.

"Just checking, officers." he nodded and waved them toward the elevators.

Whatever, thought the kid as he returned to the front desk, picking up the phone to call off the security guys. Good thing there was no rush, he thought sourly of the yet to appear off-duty cops hired to patrol the hotel.

They reached the elevator bank and entered one of the boxes where Danny punched the button for the tenth floor. He had to smile at the image reflected in the bronze mirrored surface of the elevator's walls.

There in a sepia toned tableau stood his ex-partner with his current partner casually slung over his shoulder. Calmly gazing up at the floor indicator, Bill looked as if toting an unconscious hundred-seventy-more-or less-pound man like an inked deer carcass was an everyday occurrence.

Danny would have laughed if it weren't for the serious issue that preceded the strange scene. He just sighed and shook his head as the elevator dinged its arrival at their floor and reached into his pocket for his key card.

Though Bill showed no signs of tiring, Danny was glad their room wasn't farther from the elevator as they trudged down the carpeted hallway. Opening the door, he let the big man past him to dump Steve unceremoniously onto the already turned-down bed; the SEAL not even waking when he thumped limply down onto its surface.

"Thanks Bill. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help, partner. I was sure the idiot was gonna get his ass shot by either cops or bad guys before the night was over. You have no idea what he can manage to get into when I'm not around. I'm grateful to you." said Danny sincerely, looking up at the big Irishman.

The blonde was aware of the nicknames their co-workers had for the two of them when they were partnered: Mutt and Jeff, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Burt and Ernie. The height-challenged detective was happy that Steve, though more than half a foot taller than he, wasn't even close to the size of his former partner.

Danny figured there were some choice nicknames for them in Hawaii too but Steve's BAMF reputation would most likely stop anyone with a sense of self-preservation and at least half a brain from saying them within hearing distance.

Bill said simply, "Partners always look out for each other. I know you'd have done the same for me. Maybe, if I ever get to Hawaii, you'll have to." he smiled broadly, "I hear those umbrella drinks are pretty tasty."

"That they are. Just notify me ahead of time so I can get a couple of muscular friends and maybe a skiploader ready. I don't think I can sling you over my shoulder like you did Steve."

They stared down at the drunken man who'd not even twitched since being plopped onto the bed.

"Good luck with your partner. If you're this concerned about him, he must be someone worth the worry. I hope he can get it together again. Won't be easy. He's gonna need you, Tiger."

"I'll be there for him. He's the only reason I even survived on that freakin' island. I owe him a lot. He's a good man and like a brother to me. I know he'd do whatever he could if I needed help. He'd be there for me no matter what." Gazing at Steve who lay unmoving and unaware, he could almost hear the broken man saying 'I can't even help myself, how can I help anyone else?'.

"Thanks for all your help Billy. I'll make sure Steve knows he owes you one, well more than one. I'll get him to pay the deductible for your car repair." smiled the blonde.

With a quiet laugh, the big cop gave him a half-salute saying, "Don't worry about it Tiger. The old lady's loaded. Gotta go home now and apologize for my sudden abandonment of my beloved on such a cold night." He winked suggestively and let himself out of the room.

Now alone with his charge, Danny sighed and, hands on hips, looked down at the man now snoring on the bed, mouth open and actually drooling.

Steve couldn't go on like this and Danny was sorely afraid the impatient man wouldn't even bother with a slow death by alcohol.


	10. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During an alarming incident Steve recognizes something that terrifies him and Danny learns there are other wounded souls who walk the edge of darkness like his partner.

  


It was now almost six AM. and morning dawned as expected with Steve spending most of it draped over a toilet bowl or lying on the tiled floor and groaning. Though he remembered nearly nothing of the night before, he knew whatever he'd done had not been the wisest. The previous night's excess had manifested in round after round of dry heaves and what could inadequately be described as a monumental headache.

Danny, this time having no fear his partner would take off for parts unknown, was about to leave to get some Tylenol and whatever he could find that might help make Steve's misery bearable.

 _ _I should just let the moron tough it out on his own__ _,_ he thought sourly, _S_ _ _erves him right for taking off__ _._

Softening his attitude as he conceded Steve probably had good reason to try to drink himself to death, he relented. Knocking on the bathroom door, he asked, "How you doing in there, babe?" Getting only a groan in response, he couldn't help adding, "Wanna go get plowed again tonight? It's on me."

"Fuck-off, Danny!" was the muffled reply through the closed door, followed by the sound of another groan and another round of heaving.

"Be right back. I'm taking pity on you and getting you some Gatorade and Tylenol. It's the universal remedy for children with the flu and idiots who decide that killing off a few billion brain cells with alcohol poisoning is a good idea. If you so much as look at the exit, I'm going to tie you to your bed. Capiche?"

"You've got to be kidding." groaned the hoarse voice from the bathroom.

Danny assumed his partner was talking about the exit part rather the threatened consequences but he'd take what he could get. Chuckling, he grabbed his wallet and room key and went to look for hangover supplies.

…..

The bathroom door opened and Steve staggered out holding his head as though it would roll off his shoulders. Shirtless and shoeless, he stopped his forward progress abruptly, nearly losing his balance. He paused to gauge the distance from his standing position to the surface of the bed and, making a decision, gritted his teeth and slowly lowered himself onto it. Any jarring movement would surely cause his head crack and his brain to flop out onto the floor.

"Danny," he groaned into the shaky hands he held to his face, "Did you bring your gun?"

"Of course not!" said the blonde, even though the weapon was hidden in his luggage. "Why do you want to know?" he asked narrowing his eyes at the pathetic creature before him as he twisted the cap off a bottle of Gatorade to hand to him.

"If you had it, you could do me the kind favor of putting me out of my misery."

"Sorry babe, you're not a horse, just the back-end of one."

"Bite me!" rasped Steve from behind his hands knowing his response wasn’t the most creative but it was the best he could come up with.

“Here, take this.” ordered Danny as though he was talking to his nine-year-old daughter.

Steve didn’t protest. Taking a hand away from his face he reached shakily toward the bottle of orange liquid.

With an evil grin, the blonde said, "I’m not gonna bite you, Steven, but what I'd like to sink my teeth into is a humongous cheese and kielbasa sandwich. You know the ones loaded with grilled onions and peppers where the cheese and grease just drips off your elbows. They have the best kielbasa here in Chicago. We'll have to track a couple of those puppies down before we leave."

"Oh, God" gasped the hungover man as he thumped the plastic bottle down on the nightstand and lurched off the bed toward the bathroom.

"You want something for breakfast?" Danny called after him, smugly knowing the answer would be negative.

"No, just a bullet." was the hoarse answer from the other side of the door.

….

By late-morning, Danny had checked in with Chin. There wasn’t much going on the cousins couldn't handle. He brushed off any questions about Steve with the vague answer their boss was recovering from a hangover and the two of them would be on their way home as soon as the storm allowed the airport to reopen.

When he left, he hadn't told them anything other than he was taking a few days off to meet Steve and help him with a few things before coming back home. The cousins were afire with curiosity but knew, eventually, they'd find out what was going on. They just hoped their boss hadn't gotten himself into something he couldn't get out of. The man attracted trouble like black clothing seems to attract cat hair.

The man in question was feeling marginally better and had managed to keep down the Gatorade and a few crackers. How he looked was another matter altogether.

While waiting with the phone to his ear for airline/airport closure information, Danny sat on his bed and evaluated his partner's appearance as the tall man was slowly getting dressed after a longer than usual shower. Since he'd last seen Steve in swim trunks during Gracie's last surfing lesson, the tall man's ribs and hipbones were much more prominent. The thin red scar that ran from just below the bottom of his rib cage to disappear under his waistband was a new one. Saying the man looked trashed was being kind.

 _When he gets home and Kono sees him, she'll probably first hug him, then yell at him, then begin stuffing him with several of her mother's highest calorie recipes,_  thought Danny.

"See something you like?" asked the SEAL, irritated at his partner's stare, "Don't get your hopes up princess, you're not my type."

Danny only snorted at the dig, "You're looking a little ragged this fine . . . ", he looked out the window at the still falling snow, ". . . frigid day, my friend."

"Go figure." said the tall man grumpily as he pulled on a t-shirt then began rummaging around in his bag for a pair of clean socks.

"Yeah, trying to drink Chicago dry was not one of your brightest ideas, Steven."

"I'll concede the fact." said McGarrett as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the chest of drawers on which sat his canvas duffle. Staring back at him were eyes that looked like two holes in a blanket and hair that looked as though it had been styled with an egg beater. He inwardly cringed at the apparition. As Danny would say, ( _probably any minute now),_ 'Not your best look, Babe.'

He was just lucky he didn't remember much of what had gone on last night. It was already embarrassing enough without the ugly details. He vaguely remembered being carried upside down over someone's shoulder. He knew it wasn't Danny and sincerely hoped he'd never again meet the guy who had lugged him back to the room.

Strangely, after missing his evening meds and in no way being able to keep down the morning ones, he felt a little more like himself. The gauzy curtain and the distant feeling were at bay for now. Of course they'd been replaced with nausea and a headache only a bullet could cure. He wasn't entirely sure it was a good trade-off. Muddled as his mind is from last night's misadventure, now that the meds had worn off he’s feeling almost normal – well, as normal as an aching head and roiling stomach would let him. So far, he didn't feel the anxiety and screaming restlessness that seemed to plague him during every moment he was awake without drugs. Maybe physical pain canceled out the other kind. Whatever. His head ached even thinking about it. Actually, _thinking_ was painful.

He’d considered arguing for lower dosages of the umpteen medications he’d been prescribed but he knew his tough little partner wouldn't be swayed by any argument he might come up with. At least until they get home, maybe being drugged to his eyeballs is for the best. He certainly didn't want a repeat of what had happened in the airport and Danny was probably not up to another chase through the city of Chicago. He’d have to behave himself to even be allowed to leave the room without a collar and leash.

"Come on Rambo, let's go down to the coffee shop."

"Just let me die here, Danny." he groaned, "If I even look at anything _you'd_ consider food, I'll be back to driving the porcelain bus."

"Serves you right for taking off like that. It's a wonder you don't have pneumonia as well." snipped Danny, unable to control his industrial-strength mother henning.

Steve didn't argue back. He knew Danny was right. It had been a stupid thing to do but the need to escape was all that drove him. He couldn't even remember why he'd run off but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

"You go ahead, D. Food isn't even remotely interesting to me right now." groaned Steve as he flopped tiredly back onto the mattress, one boot on, the other laying a couple of feet away on the floor. Getting both on at the same go seemed a herculean task at the moment. His head was pounding like a mother-fucker and bending over to retrieve his other boot would make it unbearable.

He still had hope that Danny wouldn't be at him to take this morning's meds. He hated that dull, disconnected feeling they gave him. But his hopes were immediately dashed when the blonde addressed him again.

"Sorry, babe; the instructions for some of your medications say you have to eat before taking them. Now that you have a better chance of keeping something down, it's time to be a grown-up again and stick to the agreement."

Steve couldn't argue with that. The reason Caldwell had agreed to let him leave was his promise to take his meds on a regular schedule; well that, and Danny agreeing to babysit. That's what the tall man considered it . . . babysitting. He knew deep down he was grateful to have such a friend - someone who actually cared about his well-being. He also knew he'd agreed to cooperate and he couldn't go back on his word.

Danny bent to pick up the other boot and tossed it onto the bed. Sitting up and only experiencing mild lightheadedness this time, he pulled it on but didn’t bother to lace it before standing and saying, "OK, lead the way, Mother Williams."

"Shut-up, asshole" sighed Danny as he walked quickly toward the door – he could hear a hot-fudge sundae calling his name.

…

The storm had stalled over Lake Michigan and wasn't letting up anytime soon. All flights were still canceled and the airport was shut down for the moment.

Steve agreed to pay for an extra night at the Drake. He himself would've been fine hanging out at the airport if that 'incident' hadn't happened. He'd stayed in far less comfortable surroundings during his lifetime in the military.

Their late breakfast/early lunch wasn't as awful as it could have been. After seeing Danny's order of a mountain of vanilla ice cream covered with fudge, Steve actually did order a sundae and managed to keep it down along with the meds. He figured the extra calories certainly couldn't hurt right now and he wasn't going to be scheduled for anything that would require he be in peak physical condition for a while . . . if ever.

He looked almost sadly at the pills sitting in the palm of his hand. He knew that at least one of them would make him feel really out of it. Sure, he was far less anxious but it was a trade-off. It had to be done. It was safest for everyone around him that he be drugged to near oblivion.

As he finished dispensing the last of the meds, Danny noticed his friend's hesitation. "It's okay Steve. I'm with you and it's only temporary. Caldwell says we can lighten up at least on the Ativan as soon as we get home. It's just to lessen the stress of travel so you can get some decent rest."

McGarrett said nothing and popped the mix of pills and capsules into his mouth, the coffee he'd ordered was cool enough now to wash them down. He'd even had a minor 'discussion' with his partner over regular or decaf and Mother Williams had won . . . of course. He sighed as he took a swallow of the decaffeinated brew that tasted like boiled cardboard.

They talked of nothing significant. Steve could feel the dulling of his senses as the drugs kicked in. __It's for the best.__ _ _I__ _ _t's for the best__ _,_ he repeated the mantra in his head over and over as he smiled at the appropriate places in Danny's animated account of Grace's latest achievement as captain of her soccer team or Kono's latest kick-ass confrontation with a perp.

Danny could see Steve's eyes begin to lose their concentrated, if bloodshot, focus. His heart heavy, the blonde watched the slow transformation to the dull glazed look that had been evident when they'd been reunited at Quantico. _It's for the best,_ he thought sadly.

…..

The nagging guilt of drugging his partner, (with his acquiescence), made him restless for some sort of distraction. It distressed him to see Steve so subdued and compliant. He was used to a man who was almost never still; never without a smart comeback; never without an audacious solution to a daunting project, (meaning he usually blew something up). Much as he'd long accused his partner of being a child, he didn't like being the only adult in the room.

Shedd Aquarium wasn't that far from the hotel. It certainly shouldn't be crowded on a day like today. Not wanting to leave Steve alone, he talked the SEAL into a field trip. Only the hardiest of cabbies still patrolled the streets for their fares. The city looked nearly deserted as the snow still fell heavily though the wind had somewhat abated.

Danny thought that, even if it wasn't the Pacific Ocean, maybe the SEAL wouldn't feel so out of his element if he could look at fish swimming around in a big tank. That was his theory anyway.

Actually, the whole thing seemed disconcerting to Steve as they emerged from the cab onto a snowy sidewalk and trotted up the steps of the aquarium.

One minute they were in the middle of a dismal winter storm and the next, in the middle of the Caribbean. Even without the drugs, it might have been disorienting as the exotic and brightly colored fish in the huge glass tanks that lined the walkway swam around them on both sides.

Though not really surprised, Danny found that Steve's knowledge of the aquatic world, however slowly dispensed at the moment, was impressive. The SEAL had helped Gracie with her homework and she'd gotten an A on her report on sharks. He worried his baby girl was planning on being the next Croc Hunter - only with sharks instead of reptiles. If so, he'd have Steve to blame.

They wandered through the exhibit, Danny cringing at the reef sharks swimming inches from his face behind the thick glass. Steve, lost in medication and the underwater world, displayed an unguarded look of awe on his face.

….

It started as a bit of yelling. An angry man in front of the manta exhibit was giving his kid hell for not paying attention. The boy's mother, a small woman with a worried expression was trying to placate the agitated man, pushing the child behind her protectively as she tried to calm and shush her husband. The few people in the area had turned to stare.

Her husband, at least a foot taller and many pounds heavier, suddenly reached out to slap her hard across the face, his own twisted in an angry snarl as the sound reverberated off the hard surfaces of glass and tile.

In a flash, Steve and Danny were there; the detective placing himself between the angry man and his distressed wife as Steve grabbed the man's arms to twist them up behind his back.

"Let me go you asshole! This is between me and my wife!"

"No" said Danny calmly, "Now, it's between you, your wife, and two guys who are gonna kick your ass if you raise your hand to this woman again."

"You can't push me around! I know my rights!" yelled the man, unknowingly taking an incredibly stupid stand against a Jersey cop and a Navy SEAL.

Steve growled softly into his ear, "You'd better listen to the man or your wife will be bailing you out of jail or claiming your body from the medical examiner."

"Let go of me you fucking bastard!" he yelled at the SEAL who had no problem twisting the combative man's arms up a little higher as the threats escalated.

"OW! DAMMIT! I'm gonna call the cops! You have no right to restrain me! This is my business!"

"No." calmly replied Danny once again, "When you hauled off and smacked your wife, you made it the business of a couple of cops who happened to be spending a nice quiet day at the aquarium until you decided to disturb it. I'd choose my words wisely if I were you and calm the hell down."

"Please Jeff! Do what they say! I don't want you to get hurt!" said the frightened woman, her son peeking out worriedly from behind his mother, eyes wide.

Steve wondered how she could even defend the brute as blood dripped from her nose and her cheek began to swell. He let his partner take the lead. Danny would be better at figuring this out. His years as a cop rolling on domestic violence calls always came in handy in these situations.

Steve really didn't understand the woman's defense of the man. He knew if it were Kono or Cath, the women would've fucking cold-cocked the bastard by now with absolutely no need to be 'rescued' by a couple of off-duty cops. It would have been the last time the guy ever tried any crap like that on any woman.

Jeff stopped struggling, still breathing heavily; his face was flushed and the veins in his neck visibly pulsing. The battered woman pleaded with her two rescuers to let her husband go. The boy, a towhead who looked to be about ten or so clung to her fiercely; frightened but not crying.

"Please!" plead the woman, "He's getting help. He's not always like this. He just hasn't been able to . . . cope very well lately. Please let him go, we'll go right home. Please!"

"Ma'am, don't you want to report this? I would advise you to do so." said Danny.

"No. No police. Jeff's a good man, he's just . . . he just got back from duty and he's not quite back to himself yet. He has an appointment tomorrow. It will be okay until then, I'm sure of it."

Still reluctant to release the asshole to his wife, Danny hesitatingly agreed. "Okay, if you're sure." he said, not wanting to look at his partner. This was awkward in more ways than one.

Against his better judgment, he nodded to Steve who reluctantly released his hold on the jerk.

"Come on Jeff, honey. Let's go home." said the woman as she tugged her husband away. The boy looked sadly back at Steve who stood as though he was made of stone watching the little family make their way toward the exit.

"Come on, Steven, we still haven't seen the otters." said the blonde as he put his hand on Steve's arm. As soon as his fingers touched the tightly bunched muscles, he felt Steve flinch and then roughly pull away, eyes still fastened on the three people who were now nearly out of sight.

"Steven, we've got more things to see here, let's go." He spoke to him quietly and calmly but in his head was the thought, __Oh shit. What now.__

Turning toward the detective Steve asked almost desperately, "Is that what I'm like? Danny, is that what I'm like!" His voice was shaking. His entire body is trembling now.

"No, no, you're nothing like that guy. He was probably an asshole to begin with. You're nothing like that, buddy. I know you wouldn't hurt anyone, particularly a woman and a kid. That's not you, babe."

Haunted hazel-blue eyes bored into his, "Danny, if that's what I'm like, then I shouldn't even be out in public! I shouldn't even be out of a locked cage!"

"Steven, it's OK. We'll have time to sort this out when we get home. Don't worry. I repeat: you're – **nothing –** like – that – guy. I know you wouldn't hurt a woman, you wouldn't harm anyone who didn't deserve it."

Stricken and pale, the tall man looked toward the exhibit's exit through which the three had just disappeared. He softly said, "It's too late. You don't know what I've done. You have no idea."

  


 


	11. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of a tragedy Steve edges ever closer to the abyss. Danny struggles to keep him from slipping over its edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer a reader's question: This story was first posted on another popular fan fiction site. The title is the same but the name I used was slightly different from the one used here. The author's name is Gone2Far, (yes, that's me). It was written some time ago and upon rereading it, I discovered there was a lot that could be improved upon. The changes have been minor but I think they make it a smoother read. The first few chapters posted here weren't edited so I will be going back to, hopefully, make some improvements to those as well. Thank you for reading.

 

After several minutes, Steve's anxiety seemed to subside. Danny could see the tense rigidity leave his body as his shoulders slumped.

The detective let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Admittedly, the meds seemed to be working, at least for now, but guilt over having to dispense them was gnawing at him. Nearly as much as his troubled partner wants to go home, he'd be happy to get back to Hawaii. Steve could begin his therapy with whichever shrink Caldwell had recommended and the new doc could oversee the medications. Happier still would be the day when Steve no longer needed them.

Another call to Alan Caldwell that morning had the psychiatrist once again changing the dosage of the Ativan. Danny didn't go into the details of his partner's Houdini act that had him dashing out into a snowstorm without a jacket. And though Caldwell had been uneasy over the incident, he didn't seem surprised.

In any case, other than the hangover, Steve wasn't really the worse for wear. Danny was pretty sure his partner realized that what he'd done wasn't going to get him any closer to his goal of going back to work. Steve hadn't even questioned it when the pills handed to him were increased in quantity. He didn’t care or maybe he just didn’t notice.

Except of course for the 'Jeff' incident, the field trip had been pleasant and maybe even informative. In a while, they were once again engrossed in the wonders of the aquatic world. Danny had learned quite a bit about sea life - maybe even more than he wanted to know.

By the time Steve had explained that many species of shark are not that dangerous and they'd been demonized as man-eaters, Danny almost felt sorry for them . . . almost. Even if Steve, Kono, Chin, and the entire Pacific Fleet were near, he didn't want his little girl within a thousand miles of one. He'd seen 'Jaws' one too many times to ever be comfortable with his baby sharing the Pacific with an overly aggressive fish with way too many teeth.

As the day wore on, Steve actually appeared serene. Though not necessarily his old self, he seemed more engaged in his surroundings. Maybe braving a storm to spend a few hours at the aquarium was a good idea after all. Maybe, it was just that Steve got to engage in a little minor ass-kicking that made him feel better.  _ With Rambo it has to be therapeutic, _ thought his amused partner.

Danny's stomach growled loudly in the quiet of the rotunda that housed the Caribbean Reef exhibit. Apparently, a hot fudge sundae wasn't substantial enough to get him through until dinner.  His partner looked kind of queasy when it was suggested they go look for some of those Polska kielbasa sandwiches.

Steve did indeed become queasy at Danny’s suggestion.  Hi’s stomach is in no way up to the ingestion of greasy sausage and cheese on a roll.  _ Surely they'd have something else on the menu that would be edible, _ thought the man whose complexion had taken on a greenish cast.  So, he reluctantly agreed to go in search of the legendary, (in Danny's mind at least), sandwich.

He was trying with all his might to hold it together.  Their confrontation with Jeff had greatly unsettled him.  He knows that’s how he appears to others; dangerous and wild-eyed.  Willing his body, if not his mind, to relax, he’d carefully put the mask back into place. Even with the dulling effect of the drugs, nearly every loud sound, every strong breath of air over his skin was cause for his heart to hammer in his chest, cause to fight or run, cause for the waking nightmares to return.

He had to get home to his ocean. The familiar water would be the salve for his abraded psyche; the way it wrapped him in its cool arms, the rocking motion of its waves. The sea was his salvation . . . had been for many years. He had to get back to her.

………………..

Whatever they did, they'd have to wrap it up soon and return to the Drake. It looked as though the storm may be lessening and a flight out could be in the near future. It would be wise to get further rest before getting on another plane. Danny pulled out his cell to once again check airport conditions.

After the altercation with the abusive husband, Steve seemed fine but Danny knew his partner had been deeply affected by the confrontation. He wished there was something more he could say to the man to convince him that he’s a good person who couldn't possibly harm anyone who didn't deserve it.

He'd caught the flash of Steve's sudden realization that that’s probably how he’d appeared at the airport – violent and out of control.  His partner was all about control and to suddenly not have it must be devastating. Besides the fear of unleashing his inner demons and harming someone, he was ashamed.

Steve seemed to be doing well enough now though. He'd been all business during the altercation but Danny was glad for the sedative effect of the anti-anxiety drug. After last night, he'd considered giving his freaked out partner the mysterious drug that Caldwell had slipped into his pocket. There were unpleasant side effects to it that Steve really didn't need right now. It’s a pretty heavy duty anti-psychotic and its benefits aren’t immediatey realized unless it’s in injectable form. He'd hold off for now.

Danny's online research into PTSD had told him that even the strongest and most highly trained people could be subject to the syndrome. If something traumatic triggered it, there was an entire range of reactions – none of them good. Steve is exhibiting some of them and Danny's heart aches for him.

…

Standing before the river exhibit and watching the otters frolic, his mind was elsewhere. Steve thought control had always been his ultimate talent: control of situations, his actions, his emotions. He supposed Danny was even right about the driving thing. It was a control issue. He didn't just  _ like _ to drive the sleek silver Camaro, he  _ needed _ to drive it.

Since coming back from deployment, he couldn't seem to control anything. He'd been locked up like an animal because of his lack of it. His life is in control of others; first his doctors, now his partner. Maybe it was good that the meds made him feel like nothing really seemed to have any meaning or importance. Everything slowly passed before him like a mechanized diorama. At this point, he’s just an observer of his own existence.

Yet, deep down, he could feel something savage in its strength; an irrational anger.  A deep, burning, molten-core, anger . . . and then there was the fear . . . Fear that whatever had created that anger was going to devour him but, first, it would flay whatever protective hide he still possessed right off his body.  It would lay bare what he could never show. If they knew what he was really like, what he'd done . . . he couldn't survive that.

Maybe he didn't want to.

The feeling of unease that lingered after the confrontation nagged ceaselessly at him. The sleek creatures in the water before him chased each other in happy abandon but he didn't really see them. He was seeing the twisted, angry, face of someone so like himself, someone who knew he shouldn't be here among the living.

As one of those endless fundraisers at the Governor's mansion where his attendance as the leader of Five-0 was meant to impress, Danny had advised him, 'Whatever you do, don't be yourself'. Though it had been said in jest, the man was right.  'Himself' is something that should go dig a deep dark hole and then crawl into it.

…

Having been here for several hours, they'd run out of things to see. Well, they hadn't so much as run out of things as they'd succumbed to tired feet and Danny's growling stomach. Deciding to call it a day, they'd gotten to the exit and were standing on the front steps trying to spot a cab when they heard the flat popping sounds.

Both men immediately knew it wasn't backfire from a cold engine being asked to come to life. The sound was too familiar. People, mostly families with small children, began to pour frantically out of the aquarium entrance.

Without thinking twice, Steve, Danny right behind, went swiftly toward the sound; fighting their way back into the building, badges held above their heads to identify themselves as law enforcement.

Seeing the shiny shields, no matter that they were from an entirely different state, (most people were in too much of a hurry to actually read them closely), several in the crowd pointed toward the north side of the building.

Luckily, for some reason, Danny had shoved his H & K into his overcoat pocket just before they left the hotel. Steve did a classic double take when he spotted the weapon that seemed to magically appear in his partner's hand. He'd assumed Danny wasn't armed. They'd have to have a talk about it later.

"Call 911!" the SEAL yelled to a woman who clutched her cell in her hand; a look of terror etched onto her face. "Tell them there’s an active shooter and there are two officers in civilian attire on scene but only one is armed!"

The woman, her wits still about her, nodded and began speaking into her cell phone. She'd already been in the process of connecting with an emergency operator.

The SEAL cursed to himself for the spacey detached feeling that plagued him. Now wasn't the time for slowed reflexes. Danny clipped his badge to his coat and motioned for Steve to do the same. Armed or not, neither of them ever went anywhere without their shields. Danny had always liked to say that even if the badge didn't impress bad guys, it was good for a free coffee and maybe a glazed donut in any city in the country.

The crowd was thinning out. Because of the weather, the aquarium hadn't been as crowded as it was usually.  _ Thank God for small favors, _ thought the blonde as he raised his weapon in front of him, no longer having to worry about accidentally hitting anyone in the surging mob.  Most bystanders were now gathered on the steps that led to the aquarium’s entrance Lake Shore Drive.

Crouching as they slowly advanced they could hear no further gunfire. The only sound was of their own breathing, loud and harsh in the now empty rotunda.

Steve spotted it first. A rivulet of blood coming from the other side of a large free-standing tank of crustaceans. It had run down a slight slope in the floor to begin pooling on the tile. There was no sound from anyone else in the building. Withe Danny in the lead because he’s armed, they crept cautiously forward. The detective knew there would be no way Steve would consent to staying back. Besides, even unarmed, the man was a weapon in himself.

Finally rounding the corner of the tank, they saw what both almost expected to see. Two bodies . . . no, three. There was Jeffrey sprawled in a messy heap, a gun beside him, skull shattered by a bullet he'd put there himself. His wife lay a few feet away, atop their son. Both looked to be dead as well.

Danny muttered,  _ Dammit! _ , under his breath and quickly looked to Steve whose face showed nothing.

….

They stayed to give their statements. Familiar with how it works, Danny patiently took a seat on a bench near the entrance as Steve paced back and forth like a caged cheetah. Danny had decided to use that metaphor rather than a lion or tiger because, his friend, like the animal, was long and lean and fast. One of Steve's infamous flying tackles was very much like watching one of those big spotted cats on Animal Planet as it took down its prey. Yet, despite the pacing, Steve's face remained impassive, giving nothing of his thoughts.

Danny fingered the vial of Ativan in his pocket. It was too soon to give Steve another hit. He hoped they could get back to the hotel soon. His partner looked about to vaporize himself with the nervous energy that rolled off him as he passed before him for what seemed the thousandth time in the last five minutes.

He spotted Bill on the other side of the rotunda. The big redhead was interviewing a woman who had a couple of kids with her. Thankfully, the bodies, though they still lay where they’d fallen, were covered with yellow plastic sheets and weren't visible from there.

Letting the woman and her children go on her way, Bill waved the two of them over. Danny motioned for Steve to join him and they walked across the empty space.

"Detective" greeted Danny to his former partner who nodded back at him while looking  curiously at a now sober McGarrett.

"So, you guys managed to find some excitement, huh?" asked the burly detective.

"Unfortunately." answered Danny, Steve remaining silent beside him. "Steven, this moose is my former partner at Newark PD, Bill O'Mara.”  Turning to his ex-partner he introduced, “Bill, this is Commander Steven McGarrett, leader of the Governor of Hawaii’s Special Task Force.  You two actually met last night but you probably don't remember."

Steve's pale face reddened in embarrassment as he shook O'Mara's big paw. "Uhh, hi." He said.  Having already met, 'Pleased to meet you' probably wasn't the correct response.

"You're looking a little more . . . upright." smiled O'Mara knowing that humor was probably the best way to deal with the awkwardness. Now that he’s sober and standing on his own feet McGarrett appears formidable enough despite being a little too lean.

"Hope so. Uhh, thanks for your help last night." said Steve, straightening his shoulders and giving the CPD officer a small embarrassed smile.

"No problem. Good thing you don't weigh that much." chuckled O'Mara. This is the man in whom Detective Daniel Williams found so much value.  “It’s nice to meet Tiger’s new partner.” grinned O’Mara, extending his hand for a shake as Danny rolled his eyes.

It’s unfortunate that their formal intruduction occurred in the aftermath of a murder/suicide but cops are used to chatting over gory scenes. It’s part of the job. The ones who couldn't cope with it found other lines of work.

The CPD detective noted the man’s hollow-eyed and ashen appearance but  McGarrett’s handshake is firm and without hint of tremor. And, despite the copious amount of alcohol the man had consumed only hours earlier there’s an energy to him that’s vaguely unsettling. O'Mara’s just glad he’s on their side  "So," said the big detective, all business now, "I know you gave your statements already but I want to hear for myself. What happened? How did you guys get involved in this?"

"Well, I already told you how my partner here is a trouble magnet," began Danny with a gesture to the man beside him.  Steve remained silent; his mouth drawn into a thin line. He'd normally have been annoyed but he was much too tired to give a shit. Danny could be the one to describe today’s events to the detective.

"We heard a ruckus over by the stingray exhibit and when we got there, the asshole had just smacked his wife hard across the face. He'd been yelling at his kid for not paying attention and the wife intervened. He’d hit her hard enough to cause a nosebleed and a swollen cheek. We broke it up but the guy copped an even worse attitude about being interrupted during his assault. We talked to him . . ."

_ Yeah, 'talked',  _ thought O’Mara.

". . . and he calmed down. His wife refused to involve you guys and said Jeff, the husband, had problems that were being worked on. Said they were going to go right home.” Danny sighed as he ran a hand over his face, “I'm sorry I let them go. I should have called you guys myself."

Steve stood quietly, not adding to the dialog. It all seemed surreal now anyway; now that the urgency had gone and the bodies lay cooling on the tile floor as. Neon colored fish had gathered curiously on that side of their tank; observing the strange goings on of humans.

"You got anything to add?" asked O'Mara, looking at the quiet man beside his ex-partner.

"He was just back from deployment somewhere." said Steve flatly without emotion in his voice or on his face. "Probably having issues because of it.  If you check with the local V.A., they probably have records of it."

Now it was O'Mara's turn to be a little uncomfortable though McGarrett didn't look bothered by his statement.

"Bill, I know this shit takes forever but we need to get something to eat and get back to the Drake. We, uhh, have some stuff to do before we get ready to leave. There isn't any need for us to hang around is there?"

Steve spoke unprompted, "I have to get back to take my medication. I didn't bring it with me."

O'Mara was startled at the man’s candor. McGarrett had looked him in the eye when he said it and the big man almost shivered at the glimpse of such emptiness. All he saw in the dark blue eyes was desolation, there was absolutely nothing alive there.

Turning to Danny the big cop said, “As far as I’m concerned you can leave but let me check with Brownie, uhh, Lieutenant Browne to see if he needs anything further from you guys.  Don’t get your hopes up about leaving town yet. Looks like that storm is still stalled over the lake. Airport's not open yet."

Danny studied Steve while the tall man eyes followed O'Mara who'd gone to join a group of plain clothed and uniformed cops gathered near the bodies. Technicians were crawling around like industrious ants measuring distances and trajectories and bagging evidence.

His friend was calm and composed. Maybe too calm. Other than the pacing he'd been completely non-reactive since finding the bodies and had once again retreated into his own mind. Danny was worried, well,  _ more _ worried if that was even possible.

The snow continued to fall on the Windy City.

 


	12. A Breath Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the past becomes the present.

 

 

O'Mara strolled back in their direction to give them the go ahead.  They were okay to leave. It appeared to be a straightforward murder/suicide. One could call it cut and dried but the he and the others knew it would never be so for others. The,  _ ‘What could we have done?’ _ or _ ‘Why didn’t we see it coming?’ _ , would always be there.

If those who'd chosen to end their lives could come back for a brief moment to witness this unending anguish, he was pretty sure most would want to revoke the irrevocable and unbreak the hearts of those left behind.

Later, the assembled detectives would assign someone to make the death notifications to the relatives. If there was sufficient ID on the bodies, they wouldn't wait for the M.E.'s office to do it. No one ever volunteered for the task. Sometimes it was decided by a cut of the cards or drawing of straws. O'Mara considered it the toughest job of all, particularly if it involved children. It was unspeakably difficult to witness faces nearly frozen in agony as he told them a loved one was never again coming home. The grief was exponential. It spread outward in a widening circle as relatives notified one another of the loss of one of their own.

He loved being a cop but he hated that part of the job. Junie always understood when he came home after making a death notification. She would hug him and soothe him and tell him what he needed to hear. She'd been telling him those things for years now. He loved her more than life itself.

He sighed tiredly as he walked up to his waiting friend. He was worried about Danny and his too tightly wound partner. After looking into those eyes . . . well, he hoped he was wrong. He sincerely hoped he was wrong.

Getting the news that they were good to go, Danny said,"Thanks for checking Billy, we're going back to the Drake for the night but first, we gotta go find something.  You got any recs for a good Polish sausage sandwich? Would be a shame to leave town without one." smiled Danny.

"Yeah, tell the cabbie you want to go to Podhalanka over on Division Street. It's the best in town. It'll be like eatin' at your granny's if the old woman was from Warsaw. Probably shorten your life by ten years but it'll be worth it. Tell 'em Billy sent ya. They'll take care of you."

"Thanks babe. You know how to reach us if you need anything else. Call you when we get back home. Say hi to Junie for me."

"Talk to you later, Tiger. You guys take care."

The three shook hands in farewell and went about their business: O'Mara to the business of sorting out the lives of the dead and at least one of the other two to begin sorting out how to get back to the living.

"Seems like a nice guy." said Steve for lack of anything else to say as they strode out of the aquarium and down the steps to Lake Shore Drive. It was nearly dark now and the blue and white strobes of the squad cars lit up snow drifts on either side of the drive. The light show was augmented with amber and red flashes from an unneeded ambulance or two. It would have looked almost festive but circumstances dictated otherwise.

"Tiger?" asked Steve as Danny winced.

…

_ His thirst was nearly unbearable. He lay unmoving on the rocky floor of the cave, trying not to provoke any more outbursts from his captors. As he lay there, he wondered why he was still alive. He was no more or less tough or prepared than the others had been. He was no more or less determined to complete the mission. Why was he still here while the others had gone? Why? _

_ There was more activity and a small group of women and children were herded into the rocky opening. _

_ Harsh orders were spat at them and the children whimpered as their mothers shushed them and gathered them closer. _

_ His vision grayed out and he lost track of time. He could feel movement of people in and out of the cave but was too exhausted to open his eyes. He could tell others were brought in as others were taken away. There was always the sound of strident commands and crying children. This time when he awoke he found someone staring down at him. _

_ Her eyes, were like that girl in the famous photograph: a strange mix of mottled green and blue with golden flecks. She smiled at him. He tried to return it but knew it probably looked more like a grimace. _

_ She had her scarf pulled close about her face and there was a baby on her hip probably not more than a year old. It looked at him with huge soft eyes . . . like a deer . . . like Bambi. The child was beautiful. _

_ She held something out toward him. He glanced over at their guard who sat at the cave entrance smoking and staring off into the distance. _

_ He tried to warn her with his eyes but she continued to hold it in front of him. It was an apple, small and discolored – barely edible but, to him, it looked like a feast. _

_ He reached toward it, taking his eyes off the man with the rifle. Her hand held it steady. There was no tremble in it. The small piece of fruit lay in her palm. Her hand was slender, delicate and graceful. _

_ He was nearly as taken with its perfect beauty as he was with her kind offering. His own filthy, blood stained hand reached toward it. He tried to steady it but it shook with pain and exhaustion. _

_ Suddenly, the baby in her arms chose that moment to shriek. He never knew why it screamed. He never had the chance to find out. He didn't even know if it was a boy or girl. _

_ Its piercing scream summoned the guard. Yelling a curse, he rushed into the cave _ .

….

"Steve?"

Startled, he looked up to find Danny staring at him expectantly, a menu in his hand waiting for him to order something as a stout, aproned woman stood by to take their order.

He shakily reached toward the glass of water that had been set before him, grabbing it and gulping it down in one go then he took Danny's tumbler and rapidly downed it as well. He was so thirsty. Why was he so thirsty? He felt as though his skin was on fire as though some non-existent sunlight had scorched through his clothing.

Danny was cautiously watchful. He'd seen the glazed look come over his partner's face moments before when someone in the kitchen had dropped something that landed with a crash and began cursing loudly in what he assumed was Polish. The tall man had flinched but sat quietly. After another moment, he knew Steve was suddenly somewhere else. Only his body sat across from him at the oilcloth covered table.

Caldwell had told him that flashbacks could happen anytime and anywhere. Usually, they'd be triggered by something unexpected. It could be a sound, the sight of something familiar or even an odor. If the person experiencing it wasn't endangering themself or others, it was best to just let them come back on their own. Don't do anything to startle them further but wait and maybe speak softly to them until they came back to the present.

"Just bring him some chicken soup." Danny said quickly, to their waitress, wanting her to leave them alone for the moment.

"Steven? You okay? Hey, Steve?" he spoke in a low, soft tone.

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. What were you asking?" said Steve flustered and feverish looking; his eyes beginning to lose their distant gaze and focus on the man across from him. He'd broken out in a sweat: body remembering an experience his mind tried to suppress.

"S'okay, babe. I ordered you some chicken soup. Is that alright? I didn't think you wanted one of those sandwiches but, I'm tellin' ya, you're missing a good thing." he smiled trying to get Steve to come fully back to the present.

"Good, that sounds good." mumbled the tall man looking at the empty glass in his hand with an almost puzzled expression. Danny knew he could have told his partner he'd ordered him a buffalo on a bun and Steve wouldn't have realized what was said as he struggled to return from wherever he'd been.

Though still a little shaky, in a couple more minutes, Steve was more or less back to himself again. He sipped at the hot tea placed before him by the waitress who'd told them her name was Ania. Setting a cup of coffee before Danny, she smiled and asked, "So, how do you guys know Billy? You cops too?"

Danny had remembered to tell her that Billy had sent them here to get the best Polish food in town.  _ Hey, couldn't hurt _ , thought the detective as they were shown to a table in the small, cluttered restaurant filled with intriguing smells.

"Uhh, yeah. Billy and I used to work together a long time ago. We're just visiting for a couple of days." offered Danny as Steve remained silent.

"I thought you looked like law enforcement types." she smiled knowingly, revealing a gold-capped tooth. She had a slight accent and a motherly air about her.  _ Billy was right _ , thought the blonde as he looked around the small restaurant with the plastic flowers on the table and kitschy decor.  _ Just like Granny Galluzzi's - only Polish instead of Italian. _

After a good while, their food arrived. It appeared to be worth the wait. The aroma of sausage and onions wafted from Danny's plate and a huge, steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup and what seemed an entire loaf of dense dark bread along with a huge slab of butter were placed beside it. The soup looked and smelled wonderful admitted Steve to himself but he looked at Danny with a raised brow as his partner picked up half of the humongous sandwich and took a big bite.

"Tellin' ya, you don't know what you're missing." he mumbled around his mouthful of bread, sausage and cheese. "This lives up to the hype. I'm in heaven."

"Better than pineapple on pizza?" asked Steve; his voice rusty.  He was just too tired to add a smirk.

"Don't be sacrilegious Steven." scolded his partner like a good Polish/Italian mother.

Steve only smiled weakly. His skin still burned and his bones still ached. It seems a restaurant on the south side of Chicago is still only a tortured breath away from a dark cave in a foreign land where his life had taken an unalterable turn.


	13. Hold it Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve continues to struggle against the pain of things half-remembered. Though it's been an exhausting journey, Danny vows to never give up on his friend. A flight home is finally in the works.

 

After their meal they took a cab back to the Drake.

It had _finally_ ceased snowing and people were starting to venture out.  Traffic still wasn’t as thick as it usually was but it was picking up.

The cabbie, a chatty man with the thick Midwestern accent one could hear throughout the city told them the local television news had reported that the airport was once again open and thousands of people were trying to leave town. He added that anyone who wasn't already booked would have to have an act of Congress to get a flight out. Danny cursed silently to himself. As wonderful as the city is, he'd be much happier to get Steve home. He was pretty sure his partner felt the same.

The aquarium incident still weighed heavily on them both. It felt good to get back in their room to be able to relax and unwind. After watching a bit of the eleven o'clock newscast on which the shooting at the Shedd Aquarium was the big lead, pushing even Mother Nature's doings to a lesser time slot, Danny quickly changed channels to land on a rerun of one of the more preposterous television cop shows.

This particular series featured a pair of female detectives who looked to be straight from the cover of Vogue. Their stiletto heeled chases through the streets of crime were ludicrous but kinda hot nevertheless thought both men as they lounged on their beds, glad for the distraction of female pulchritude.

A cold beer would be really good right now thought Danny as he eyed the refrigerated bar in which a measly bag of peanuts costs a fortune. He'd have to control himself for the moment. Besides, it would be unfair to Steve to drink a beer in front of him. Because of the sleeping pill and some of the other meds he was about to give his partner, alcohol is a big no no. _Not that the idiot would want to get anywhere near booze right now,_ thought the detective.

He heard Steve's derisive chuff at the ridiculous conclusion of the program in which one of the women, a sleek dark-haired beauty, planted a blade-like heel on the back of a perp's neck while the other, an equally attractive honey blonde, crouched in a very ladylike way to cuff him. Shaking his head at the ludicrousness of it Danny stood and made his way to the bathroom to get the pill vials sitting on the marble counter. As the final credits began to roll he handed Steve his nightly meds. Without a word of protest, Steve took what he was handed and downed them with a bottle of water.

"Maybe you’ll dream of one of those hot girl detectives." smiled Danny. "You like the blonde or the brunette?"

"The brunette, she talks less." Steve said grumpily as he pulled back the covers and slid under them.

"Yeah she is pretty hot . . . hey! Is that some sort of dig?"

Steve turned to look at him blankly for a brief moment before smirking, "Danny, are you seriously comparing yourself to a beautiful woman? Sorry, but you're still not my type. Anyway, told you already; I like brunettes."

"Well, you've got a pretty hot brunette of your own waiting for you when you get home." winked Danny.

Taking a moment for the statement to register Steve barked "What!" looking not the least bit happy. He assumed Danny hadn't meant Kono. "You told Cath?!"

"Calm down, Rambo. She called before I left and I told her that I was going to help you get back home from the hospital. She's worried about you and said she had some leave coming so she thought she'd be able to make it to Honolulu by next week."

"You told her I was locked up in the loony bin at Quantico!" Steve yelled, loud enough to cause their neighbor in the next room over to pound on the wall separating them.

"Sorry!" Danny yelled back to the wall pounder, not wanting to get a visit from the night manager – even if it was the very unintimidating and orthodontically challenged boy they'd met last night in the lobby.

"Steve, Steve, It's okay." said Danny, holding his hands out in a placating motion. "All she knows is that you were injured and needed some help getting home. I only told her about the physical stuff. She doesn't know about the rest. Honest."

"She wasn't supposed to know anything!" Steve's voice had started out loudly but ended in a quieter hiss. "What the hell!"

"Steven, calm down dammit. You've been with this woman for how many years? I know she's been there for you in the past when you've been injured. Why would this be any different? You need your family around you to get through this. Just accept that you actually need other people you idiot. Accept that you don't have to be strong all the time! That even you, Mister-Lone-Wolf-American-Terminator-Ninja, needs help sometimes."

Steve became silent, brow knit, lips thinned into a stubborn line. He ran his hands over his face in frustration and let out a slow breath, closing his eyes he to get back some sense of calm. If he wasn't so pissed he would've laughed at Danny's recitation of strung together names.

"Steven, I was only trying to help. You can't go through this alone no matter how tough you think you are. No one should have to face things like this alone. Please, let us help you. We're worried about you and want you to be . . . "

"What? Less dangerous?" scoffed the SEAL.

"We want you to be . . . yourself again." flailed Danny, at a loss for a phrase that wouldn’t incite a negative response. Probably one of the few times in his life words failed him.

"You have no idea what you're asking!" said Steve with a bitter huff, "You have no clue what I'm really like."

"I know you are a kind and decent man." said Danny simply.

"Kind?! Decent?!" said Steve raising his voice again and waving his arms more in the style of his partner. "What _kind_ and _decent_ man would let someone he was supposed to protect be killed in front of him? What kind and decent man would kill a baby huh?! Leave me alone! Just leave me the fuck alone!"

With that startling outburst Steve jumped up from bed and stormed off to the bathroom - the only other room available to storm off to - and angrily slammed the door making the wall shake with its violent closure.

There was more pounding on the common wall between rooms and a faint, "Hey! Hold it down!" from next door.

"Sorry!" again yelled Danny in reply to the unseen man who was probably having his sleep interrupted by the ruckus. The poor guy had the right to be pissed about the noise.

Danny felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. _What did Steve mean he'd killed a baby?_ It couldn’t be true but why would Steve say something like that?

Danny lowered the volume on the TV and sat staring at it without actually seeing what was on the glowing screen. He had no idea how to approach Steve right now so he waited for him to return to the room, hoping his friend would be calmer and maybe there'd be some sort of an explanation for his disturbing statement.

…..

Okay, here he was in this little tiled room trying to calm down. Danny had done it this time; violated his privacy by telling Cath about his troubles. He was so angry with his partner. So angry that Danny, the person he trusted with his life, would betray him by contacting the woman who . . .

 _The woman who what?_ He wondered as he tried to take a deep breath to quell the shakiness. He had to hold to the edge of the sink to steady himself.  His legs are trembling. _I'm just fucking pathetic_ , he thought as he tried to slow his breathing and regain some control.

Now, Cath would see him when he wasn't in his right mind. Cath - the woman who'd stood by him so many times in the past. The woman he cared for more than he wanted to admit, even to himself

But, hell. Their relationship had probably only worked because they didn't live on top of one another. If they spent any more time together . . . if she knew what he was really like . . . He couldn't be good for her, he couldn't be good for anyone when all he sees are the pleading faces of the dying every time he closes his eyes for longer than a minute. Looking into the mirror, he hated what he saw staring back. He hated everything about himself. He hated that he was too much of a coward to do something about it. No one should have to waste their time babysitting such a pathetic creature. Someone who couldn't stop the slaughter of the innocent, someone who'd shed innocent blood himself.

Quickly peeling out of his sweats, he stepped into the shower, turning the control to the highest temperature he could stand before stepping under the rushing water. Maybe he could wash the feeling off. Maybe he could scrape off the layers of guilt and disgust. He stood and let the water flow over his body, turning his pale skin pink with its heat.

He didn't even feel the warmth of tears that joined the cascade.

…..

Hearing the shower start, Danny lay back against the headboard and took a deep breath; willing himself to relax. This is so stressful. He can't wait to get back home. Maybe Steve will feel better being in familiar surroundings.

With a tired sigh he runs his hands through his hair.  This has been stressful. He needs back-up. Even though Steve resists having anyone else around, there’s gotta be a way to get help without upsetting him even more.

The man has walls so high that even experienced professionals are having trouble scaling them. How did he ever think he could help him? How did he ever think Steve would trust him enough to let him in? Steve wasn't used to trusting.  He’d been screwed over too many times to be trusting. It wasn't part of his nature even on a good day.

This situation is bad in too many ways to count but he isn't going to give up on the guy. His friend is worth the fight even if the big goof doesn't think so himself.

Eventually he heard the shower shut off and after a couple more minutes, Steve emerged in a cloud of steam, dressed in his sweat pants and rubbing a towel through his hair. Head down, he walked to his bed and sat on its edge.

Raising his eyes to look directly at his friend he said, "I'm sorry Danny . . . I . . . I don't know what's gotten into me. I know you're only trying to help but . . .''

"Babe, you don't have to apologize, I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't mean to compromise your privacy in any way. I don't know what you and Cath have going and it's really none of my business but she's been there for you before when you were injured so . . . I didn't think it would be wrong to tell her. I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong Danny.  I was out of line. I'm just kind of a mess right now. I know I am and . . . yeah," said Steve softly, "Cath's an amazing woman. She seems to stick with me in spite of myself."

"As I said, it's none of my business but I've always been of the opinion you two really lucked out when you found each other. She's a keeper my friend."

"Yeah, someone else told me that not so long ago” wistfully smiled Steve.  Looking off into the middle distance, he added as if to himself, “I'll be amazed if she still wants to be around me when she finds out just how fucked up I am. This isn't like the other times."

"Steven, this is just another injury. Cath's a smart woman, she'll understand that just because it doesn't involve flesh and bone makes it no less painful. Just because you can't bandage it or there's no antibiotic that will make it go away doesn't mean that that you don't suffer as much or that those around you don't feel any less empathetic. Just accept help when it's offered. Accept that people love you."

The tall man sat dejectedly on the bed, drying hair comically going in every direction but not noticing. He let the towel he was holding drop onto the floor at his feet as he leaned toward Danny and locked troubled eyes on his friend.

"Danny, I know I've done things that . . . that . . . I can only half remember. They were bad things, terrible things. I think if I ever completely recall . . . . if I go there . . . I don't know if I can ever get back.”

“Steve, I’m here for you. You have family now, you have ohana to help you. We won’t let you get lost.  Please tell me what’s going on in your head.”

“I . . . I can't” Steve choked out, “I’m sorry.”

"There's nothing you can tell me that will scare me off." vowed Danny. “There’s nothing that will make me go away, Steven.”

Without reply, looking miserable and ashamed, Steve drew his legs up onto the bed and wrapped his arms around his knees as though to protect himself from memories that would return to finish his destruction.

Danny sighed, "It's okay. Whenever you're ready.  I’m not going anywhere. Your ohana isn't going anywhere.  We’re gonna be around no matter how long it takes. Just remember that you are a special, special, guy and our brother and . . . really babe, you're no crazier than you were before."

Steve looked up in surprise, eyes watery. Despite his inner turmoil, he choked out a half-chuckle. Danny had taken the chance at levity and luckily, it seemed to work.  After another minute or two Steve’s tight posture began to ease.

Finally, taking a shaky breath, he slowly exhaled then said, "You know, you're not as dumb as blondes are made out to be."

"Hey, Gabby thinks I'm the cat's pajamas."

"I'm sure she does.  At that museum, she deals with the island's oddities all day. It must be quite a thrill to have one who can speak."

Before the detective could come up with a sufficiently scathing answer, his partner reached over to the lamp between the beds and clicked it off then snuggled down into his blankets.

"'Nite Danny." Steve tiredly sighed and turned to face the wall; waiting for sleep to claim him. He knows the Prazosin should, if not eliminate dreaming entirely, at least keep him from waking up screaming. He recognized the capsule in the mix of pills Danny had handed him. He knew he'd wake nauseous from it and wouldn't be able to eat for most of the day but it was better than the alternative. If he could, he would take it every night.

Danny waited until he could hear Steve’s breathing even out. The one drug, Prazosin he thinks it’s called, makes it possible for Steve to sleep through the night but it destroyed whatever appetite his friend had managed to regain. Losing more weight wasn't advisable right now. The SEAL’s body had been so stressed by what he'd been through that taking the chance of picking up some opportune bug because he was rundown wasn't a good idea. Unfortunately there was no other medication that would help lessen the nightmares.

Early the next morning, while Steve was sleeping, Danny went out into the hallway and after many long minutes on his cell, a fight out was finally secured. Mother Nature had her final laugh by ending her frozen onslaught on the last day of the National Hardware Show. Besides the usual stranded travelers at this major airline hub, there were thousands of weary hardware salespeople and trade show personnel longing to return to their homes across the country. It was like an annual migration of a great herd of footsore wildebeest.

To get the tickets home, he'd done something he never thought he'd do. He'd traded on Steve's military status and related the fact the SEAL was returning home after having been injured in the service of his country. He practically had the airline reservationist in tears. If Steve ever found out, drugged or not, he'd probably kick his ass. Danny knew he was already treading a thin line with the Cath thing.

He silently let himself back into the room and lay down for a few extra winks; willing his body to relax and let his mind drift to thoughts of home and his daughter. He could hear Steve breathing softly in the next bed.

There were so many mysteries to work out. So much pain to work through. It had to be done or his best friend would be lost; forever wandering in the desolate landscape he'd never really left.

 


	14. Born in the Sign of Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're finally home but Steve's progress is debatable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter is from the old LRB song, 'Cool Change'.  
> My apologies if I screwed-up the translation from English to Dari. Goggled the hell out of it but still not sure if I got it right.

Danny, quietly as he could, unzipped his carry-on to begin packing the things he'd already laid out on the bed.

At the sound, Steve startled awake, jolting into a sitting position and grabbing for something at his side. Danny knew he was reaching for a weapon. Even though there wasn't one to be had, it still made the detective's heart pound a little faster. He hoped it was just a SEAL thing and not something he could blame on his friend's current mental state.

"Sorry babe. Didn't mean to wake you. We got a flight out at noon. It's a non-stop so I figured you should get all the sleep you can before we leave."

Steve's chest heaved as he tried to slow his breathing while thinking for probably the hundredth time since he'd come back from deployment,  _ Dammit, why can't I just wake up like a normal person? _

He lay back on the bed, closed his eyes, and waited for his rabbit quick heart rate to slow again to something more in the human range.  The room had spun for a brief moment at the change from lying to sitting. One or more of the previous night's meds would cause dizziness if he sat up too quickly. His stomach lurched as well. It was the trade-off for keeping the nightmares under control.

"S'okay, Danny. Time to get up anyway." said Steve, sitting up a little more slowly this time.

Throwing aside the blankets, he swung his feet off the bed and onto the floor. Waiting another moment before actually standing, he was relieved to get to his feet without losing his balance as he'd done the morning before.  But while his equilibrium was okay, his stomach was not. At least he'd eaten yesterday. Maybe by tonight he'd be able to keep something down.

Responding to the call of nature, he made his way to the bathroom. As he stood over the john, still half asleep courtesy of the Temazepam, he tried to remember what had gone on the night before. He recalled yelling at Danny. He'd have to apologize again for being such an asshole. He knew his friend was only trying to help but he really wasn't looking forward to seeing Cath this time. A knot of dread formed in his stomach, adding to the already queasy feeling.

While washing up, he glanced at the floor and was a little surprised to see his sweatshirt crumpled up under the marble counter. He wasn't usually such a slob. Neatness was ingrained in him. He bent to pick it up, straightening slowly so as not to make the room dance about again.

He didn’t immediately recall it but his skin remembered the blistering shower he'd taken.  It was tender as though he had a mild sunburn. He'd have to add it to the list of really stupid things he'd done lately, right behind running out into a snowstorm without a jacket and then drinking a river of whiskey. He'd always prided himself on being almost hyper aware of the physical world. He relied on his senses to keep himself and his people safe but now, one moment he was numb as a brick and the next, every breath of air over his skin make him jump like he'd been scalded. It frightened him.

He went back to sit on his bed and hear about the arrangements for their departure. Danny had already completed packing up his belongings and had set his bag by the door.

"I know practically everyone in Chicago is trying to be somewhere else now that the airport is finally open again. How did you even manage to get tickets?" asked Steve as he rummaged through the duffle Danny had set on the bed for him.

"Uhh . . . just called in some favors. No big deal." Danny replied nonchalantly, hoping Steve wouldn't ask for details.

"Well, whatever works." smiled McGarrett as he pulled out his shaving gear, just happy for the opportunity to get home.

While Steve was in the shower, (a cooler one this time), Danny surreptitiously contacted Caldwell to ask about the Ativan dosage for the flight. After listening to the explanation of what had happened at the aquarium and the flashback at the restaurant, the doctor agreed that four milligrams was the best dosage for the plane ride. That much was almost guaranteed to keep Steve quiet and out of trouble for the nearly ten-hour flight. Danny just hoped he wouldn't have to carry the guy off the plane.

Steve packed up his stuff and they went downstairs to check out. Much as Danny had liked the place, this wouldn't necessarily be a visit he'd like to put in a scrapbook. Making a stop at the coffee shop, he talked Steve into eating most of a bowl of oatmeal so that he could take his morning meds. Luckily, it stayed down and as the drugs took effect, Steve again became subdued and measured in his movements. All the way to O'Hare he stared dully out the taxi's window at the still nearly pristine snow that covered the city. The sparkling blanket hadn't yet turned into the usual trampled grey slush.

Danny didn't try to engage his partner in any conversation and, for once, the latest of their cabbies remained silent; not offering any local news or political opinions.

The conversation with the shrink had resulted in more detail about the unlabeled bottle he'd been handed - why it had neither the name of the drug nor the name of the patient listed on it. The information regarding its dosage and effects was contained on the slip of paper that had been stuffed inside the small bottle of capsules.

Caldwell had explained that if the Navy found out about the medication usually prescribed for chronic psychosis, Steve would have no chance of remaining in the military. He wasn't going to officially prescribe it. He’d given Danny a few of the samples distributed by the drug manufacturer. He assured the detective that he'd prescribed it in the past for other patients but it had some unpleasant side effects if taken regularly.

He felt that Steve losing his commission on top of whatever else had happened during his deployment would be a disastrous blow for the fragile man. Caldwell was breaking the rules and risking his own career by even dispensing it without it being documented in Steve's file but he felt it was the right thing to do. He'd come to like and respect the troubled commander. The regs were there for a reason but he didn't feel they were in in his patient's best interests right now.

The drug wasn't to be used unless Steve had a full-blown break but, unless something really dire triggered one, it most likely would never be needed. Danny prayed he was right.

….

The flight was tedious. Steve slept most of the time.

The plane was full of the usual snowbirds looking for respite in the fiftieth state. This was a long non-stop flight so it was expected the children on it would eventually become restless. Despite being the world's most conscientious and loving father, as it wore on, Danny wished he had enough Ativan to give to everyone.

Thought the detective as an ear-splitting scream generated by a child a few rows behind them made him check to make sure Steve hadn't awakened,  _ On flights like this _ ,  _ maybe the airline should hand out Ativan like the little packets of pretzels they give out along with soda or water _ . He felt guilty for even thinking it but he worried that Steve would startle awake and it would trigger something no one wanted to deal with.

Throughout the flight, his partner had barely stirred; getting up once to use the restroom. Danny kept an eye on him as he walked slowly and carefully down the aisle. If there'd been anywhere else to go, he'd probably have had to follow him to make sure he didn't wander off. The four milligrams of the anti-anxiety medication combined with the effects of the other drugs had almost literally knocked the SEAL on his ass.

Successfully finding his way back to retake his seat, Steve promptly returned to slumber. Danny woke him for their meal but he barely touched his food saying he was too nauseous to eat. Considering it was airline fare, it wasn't even all that bad. Danny finished up what his partner left untouched.

Since it was a last minute 'emergency' booking, they were actually lucky to be able to sit beside one another. Steve had the window seat and Danny the aisle. The tall man slept in what looked to be an uncomfortable position, slipping down in his seat until he rested with his head half wedged between it and the window. Danny pulled him gently over to lean against his own shoulder. He didn't want his friend to suffer a neck injury on top of everything else. Steve didn't even wake completely.  He only frowned slightly and mumbled something unintelligible as he curled his body toward the aisle, tucking his head against Danny's shoulder before resuming his soft breathing.

A little boy of five or six with huge dark eyes looked curiously over the back of the seat in front of them. Danny smiled at him and the kid shyly smiled back. He solemnly stared at them for another moment before saying, "My two daddies sleep that way on airplane rides too."

_ Damned little brat _ , thought the detective.

…

Danny woke his partner when the announcement came to put one's seat in an upright position. Steve stirred groggily and straightened up, looking around and running a hand over his face. Danny motioned toward the man's seriously disheveled hair. Steve grinned sleepily at him and ran his hands through his short but unruly coif and managed to get most of it going in the same direction.

Danny only shook his head. Even on his good days, Steve's hair would kind of do its own thing. The blonde figured his partner kept it short not necessarily due to some military requirement or even as a declaration of style but because he didn't want to waste the time or energy to tame it. The man is an animal.

Danny always took great pains to arrange his own hair in just the right way and NOBODY messed with it. It annoyed him a little that Steve could be so cavalier about his appearance and still manage to look as though he belonged on the cover of GQ.

The sound of the plane's engines changed pitch and moments later its tires thumped down onto the runway; the landing is a little harder than he was expecting but it startled only one of the kids on the plane into squawking amid the nervous titters of some of the passengers. In the ten or so minutes it took for the airbus to arrive at their gate and begin expelling its human cargo, Steve seemed to come completely awake and was more than ready to deplane. He actually looked a little more rested but it may only be that the mood stabilizers were wearing off. Nevertheless, he seemed happy to be home.

The two walked quickly down the jetway. It was good to be home again. Steve knew he'd had enough snow to last him for the rest of his life . . . and probably enough whiskey to do the same.

Danny called Kono to let her know they'd landed. She and Chin were wrapping up a crime-scene on the other side of the island. It would be at least another hour or so before they could get to the airport. He told her not to worry, they'd get a ride from someone else.

His next call was to Kamekona. They were waiting on the concrete benches in the shade outside the terminal as the big man's jeep pulled up before them.

"Hey, my favorite arms of the law, howzit?" greeted the shave ice/shrimp truck entrepreneur.

"Good" answered Steve, "Now that we're home again." He offered a smile to the big man. "Thanks for coming to pick us up."

Kamekona looked the tall man up and down as though he was thinking of purchasing him and pronounced, "Brah, you need some of my special Cajun garlic shrimp with maybe a side of curly fries covered with my special sauce."

"Can I take a rain check on that?" Steve's smile broadened. Even on a good day, Kamekona's spicy shrimp dish, (not to mention his secret sauce of gooey cheese mixed with wasabi and only God knew what), was a little rough on one's stomach. The thought of trying it right now was actually painful.

"Where to, my bruddahs? You wanna to go to da cop house?"

"Yeah, that would be goo . . . "

Danny cut off his partner's answer before he could even complete it. "Just drop us off at McGarrett's big guy. We have a few things to do before we can get back to work."

Steve scowled at him but didn't argue. Airing his laundry in front of the large Hawaiian wasn't something he wanted to do. Though the big man had proven himself to be a true friend and was part of their extended ohana, Steve preferred to keep his situation as far under wraps as possible. Even to have everyone know that Danny had to go get him and bring him home like a runaway dog was embarrassing. He knew he was a walking disaster. Besides, he didn't want everyone discussing what a fuck-up he is. He knew they would. People would talk about him. They were staring at him in the airport, he could feel their eyes on him. Even Danny was looking at him strangely and he'd seen how Kamekona was evaluating him. He had to get away from all of them.

It was a bright sunny day as were most of them here – too bright. The sunshine was nearly painful in its relentless glare and intensity. After he and Danny climbed into the Jeep, Steve fumbled through his duffle looking for something.

"Whatcha need, Rambo?" Danny called back to him from the front seat.

"Sunglasses, looking for my sunglasses." muttered Steve anxiously.

Kamekona, a perceptive man despite his somewhat clownish appearance and behavior, raised an eyebrow to look at Danny questioningly.

Danny handed Steve the Foster-Grants he pulled from his shirt pocket. "Here, babe, you can use mine. No worries." Stylish but inexpensive, they did the job.

Steve quickly snatched them from his hand and fumbled them on before sitting back in his seat, posture tense.

"You turn into a vampire or someting when you wuz gone, Brah?" smiled the big Hawaiian as he steered his old jeep away from the curb and toward the airport exit.

"Yeah, something like that." said McGarrett rather stiffly as he bent forward to stuff displaced belongings back into the duffle. Kamekona, though he didn't react, had noticed the nearly frantic search and then the cool tone of the man's reply.

The detective and the entrepreneur talked of island life and its latest goings on during the twenty-minute drive. Steve was silent but seemed on edge looking around as if he was waiting for something to happen. He'd gone from being almost sleepily relaxed, to happy anticipation, to edgy and hyper-vigilant in a very short period of time. Danny glanced at his watch. In another hour and a half, it would be time for a dose of everything but the Ativan.

_ He's home now, _ thought the detective,  _ There's no reason to be so on edge. _

They arrived at the McGarrett house and pulled into the driveway behind Danny's Camaro and Steve's Silverado. Not knowing when they'd return, he'd asked Chin and Kono to retrieve it from the airport and drop it off at Steve's. He'd always chided his partner for his thrifty ways but he didn't want to run up a humongous tab at airport parking.  Even though he knows his friend will reimburse him for expenses, his budget for the unexpected cross country trip is tight. He’d already economized by asking a friend to pick them up at the airport rather than paying for a taxi.

Without even waiting for the jeep to come to a complete stop, Steve grabbed his duffle and hopped out.

"Hey Rambo! Wait for me!" chided Danny who actually waited for the vehicle to stop rolling before hefting his bag and jumping out. "Thanks for the ride man." he called over his shoulder to the big man who waved and drove off, shaking his head at the strangeness of his friend McGarrett. The man needed to eat something. It always made one feel better. He knew it did wonders for himself.

Steve didn't even bother to go to his front door. He dropped his duffle at the side of the house and disappeared toward the back. There his ocean waited for him. He could practically feel its cool embrace; could feel it curling around and over his tired body. It had been too long since he'd been home . . . to his ocean, his refuge.

Danny jogged after him. He didn't bother to call out. He couldn't stop Steve from returning to the sea, it was part of him and he of it. He knew it was probably the best thing for his friend right now. Everything else could change. Everything we thought about ourselves could be turned on its head in one fickle disastrous moment; lives turning to shit in a brief utterance or the flash of a gun’s muzzle but the sea is always there.

Steve paused only long enough to strip off, leaving only his briefs, before wading out far enough to dive into the cool serenity he'd longed for.

The blonde plopped down into the sand to sit and watch his friend cut through the water like a dolphin. With powerful strokes he swam out far enough to be only a small speck in the blue expanse. Though Steve was nearly one with the ocean and Danny was surprised the man didn't have gills of his own, he was getting a little worried at the distance Steve had gone from shore.

_ Dammit! _ thought the blonde _ , If he gets into trouble I'm not going after him. The man should have stayed in one of the tanks at the aquarium if he wanted to commune with fish. _

After more than half an hour Danny saw the small speck of dark hair begin to grow larger as Steve finally began his way back to shore. Taking Steve's spare key from his pocket and keeping watch over his shoulder, he hurried back into the house to get a towel. He was standing shoeless in the surf when Steve emerged from it looking exhausted but a lot more relaxed.

The tall man took the offered towel with a smile and scrubbed it through his hair and down his body before dropping it on the sand and sitting atop it. Danny lowered himself to the ground next to him.

Still catching his breath after his near marathon swim, Steve with knees drawn up and long arms wrapped around them, stared out into the dark blue Pacific, eyes of nearly the same color searching the horizon. Danny adopted the same pose and they sat there in silence for a long time. Shadows were beginning to lengthen when the first word was spoken.

"You know, I thought I'd never see this again." said the SEAL, not taking eyes off his ocean.

Danny said nothing in response. He didn't think Steve was expecting one.

The only sound was the lapping of the waves and the fizz and crackle of the foam that was left behind when the ocean released the shore. Several more minutes passed before the tall man said, "I thought I was going to die there and . . . then, when I didn't . . . it was actually a disappointment. Kinda funny, huh?"

"No, Steven, not funny. Not even a little bit funny." answered Danny, shuddering at the almost offhand way his partner had made the statement.

"I should have." said Steve, almost as though speaking to himself; still not taking his eyes off the water.

"I know you think that." replied the blonde, eyes locked on the horizon as well. He turned to face Steve before saying "I know you think that you should have died with the others but it wasn't your choice. It wasn't your time to die. You still have things to do, babe: more bad guys to catch, more people to help. We need you."

Steve huffed dismissively, "I couldn't even help myself, Danny. I certainly couldn't save my men. Not a damned one of them. Not even when they called out to me to save them. I couldn't do a damned thing . . . nothing, and here I am sitting on a beach in fucking paradise. I don't deserve to be here. I should have been with them."

Danny didn't have an answer for Steve's anguish. They sat silently until the sun began to dip toward the horizon. With a final burst of color it melted into the Pacific. Rising without another word being spoken between them; tall man and not-so-tall man strode shoulder to shoulder, trudging away from the shore through the still warm sand.

…..

NO! NO! NO!  ESTAAD SHO! ESTAAD SHO!

The scream from upstairs woke him.  He'd looked up the words that had become much too familiar.  Steve was screaming 'stop' in Dari.

With a worried sigh, Danny threw off his tangled blankets and rolled off the sofa. Taking the stairs two at a time, he pushed open Steve's door and found him where he'd found him nearly every night when the dreams visited.

Moving quickly to the other side of the bed, he saw his partner huddled against the wall, eyes wide and wild, hands in front of him as though in defense.

"Steve!" he approached slowly, carefully, "Hey, buddy."

The man on the floor didn't even seem to see him, he was in another world, a world not visible to anyone but himself.

"Steven, it's okay. You're okay. You're home now. Nothing is going to hurt you. Steven, wake up!"

_He's not real, not real, not real . . . don't trust what you're seeing,_ Steve's jumbled senses tried to convince him.

Danny continued his soothing murmurs and entreaty to wake as Steve continued to stare into the darkness at something that terrified him, something that made the empty air his enemy. Danny knew better than to get too close until Steve became aware of his surroundings. He still had the bruises to prove the idiocy of doing so.

As before, the nightmare left slowly, ebbing away into the darkness to leave a shivering, trembling and exhausted man cowering against a bedroom wall.

Slowly, dark eyes began to focus on the present as fear bled away to be replaced by confusion.   "Danny?" breathed Steve.

"It's me, babe. It's Danny. It's okay now. You can relax now Steven. The nightmare's over. You're safe." Danny used the same soothing words he'd used before - too many times before.

Face twisting in anguish Steve said, "She was here again. I saw her. She was right here!” he sobbed; once again trying to make himself disappear against the white plaster.

"No, no. It was just a dream. There's no one here but me and you."

Steve folded forward and buried his face in his hands, drawing his knees to his chest.  He could still see her face. See the blood, smell its coppery scent.

He flinched as Danny put a hand on his shoulder. It felt as though his nerve endings had no protection from the elements. Every touch, every atom of dust, every flicker of light registered like a sharp slap, a heavy blow, a burning. He had to end it somehow. He couldn't go on like this.

 


	15. Freefall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve meets with his new shrink but the result of their initial session isn't good. Danny has reason to regret his own actions.

 

Chin and Kono stopped by that night after work as Steve and Danny were sitting at the kitchen table finishing their dinner. There hadn't been much in the way of groceries but between what they'd found in fridge and cupboards they'd assembled a meal.

Danny refused to eat the edamame Steve had pulled from the freezer; the Jersey native saying he wouldn't eat anything that's included in the ingredients for paint and plastic.

Steve chuffed in annoyance; rolling his eyes at his partner's reaction to the possibility of consuming soybeans. Digging deeper, he found a package of frozen carrots. He noticed his chocolate stash was severely depleted but he wasn't surprised. Everyone at Five-0 had discovered his secret addiction and had availed themselves of it during the sometimes impromptu gatherings at his house. They usually replaced it but no one ever mentioned discovering it as though it was a secret not to be discussed. Sadly, there were other much more serious secrets now.

So their feast consisted of turkey meatballs, carrots, and a can of sauerkraut. Strangely, it wasn't that bad. Pizza hadn't sounded appetizing and going out to dinner had seemed much too exhausting for either of them. Steve had a flash of a thought that maybe Danny was ashamed to be seen with him. He knew it was irrational but it made its way into his head along with the myriad of other paranoid things that seemed to be regularly popping into his thoughts lately.

When the doorbell rang, Steve nearly jumped out of his skin; fight or flight instinct on full alert.

"It's probably Chin and Kono, babe." Danny reassured him as he stood to answer it.

"I don't want to see anybody Danny. Tell them I'm asleep or something."

"They're anxious to see you Steve. It's okay, they don't know anything about the hospital. I haven't told them anything."

"They'll know. I don't want to see them." He said in a deadened tone, face unreadable.

"How are they gonna know? Steve, it's okay, they're just coming by to make sure you're actually here in the flesh and to welcome you home. I've been careful to not say anything about what happened."

"I'm going upstairs."

"Please just let them see that you're okay. They're ohana babe. Ohana takes care of each other."

The doorbell rang again and Danny went out into the living room to let them in, hoping Steve wouldn't bolt upstairs and make it necessary for him to come up an excuse for his absence.

Checking through the peephole first, (maybe his partner's paranoia was rubbing off on him), he opened the door to a smiling Kono who carried a couple of paper grocery sacks in her arms. Chin stood behind her; his Zen-like expression in place.

"Danny! Good to see you." said Kono after immediately pecking him on the cheek, "Welcome home brah."

Smiling, he moved aside to let her in.  The Hawaiian woman’s eyes swept the room as she stepped past him searching for her long lost boss.

Chin gave him a brief one-armed hug of welcome then followed her inside. Danny closed the door behind them and taking a breath said, "Uhh Steve's pretty tired right now, he went . . . ". Before he could complete his sentence, the man in question appeared in the kitchen doorway, a tentative smile on his thin face.

"Steve!" exclaimed Kono in a very uncharacteristic girly squeak as she dropped the bags onto the coffee table and rushed to hug her newly returned friend.

Steve flinched as she rushed toward him but stood his ground as the slim woman threw her arms around him in a welcoming hug. Trying to stay calm and deal with the startling, unasked for, affection, his arms went awkwardly around her and his eyes squeezed shut.

Chin, quiet and observant, inwardly frowned at the exhibit of restrained but obvious discomfort. Something was up. Danny hadn't told them everything.

…..

Steve waited nervously in the outer office of the Mental Health Services Department. This wasn't his first time here at Tripler. He'd sought help previously for the nightmares that would sometimes plague him on his return from a mission. Other than Cath who'd witnessed his unsettling awakenings; he'd never told anyone about them.

Unfortunately, this stuff wasn't new. What's new are the _waking_ nightmares - those that could suddenly thrust him back into hell; could make his best friend seem an enemy; could make the safest of places a minefield. More than the nightmares themselves, the lack of control terrified him. What he might do, what harm he might inflict on friends or even strangers. To call it terrifying was to do the feeling injustice.

Now, Danny knew about them too. There was certainly no way to hide from the guy who was practically glued to him every waking moment. If Steve would let him, he was sure his loyal friend would sleep in the armchair next to his bed. He smiled to himself at the thought. He knew there were rumors about their relationship already. Luckily both he and Danny were secure enough to not let it bother them unnecessarily. Sometimes it was kind of funny. Sometimes it was kind of annoying.

Caldwell had set him up with a shrink at Tripler; someone he said would be a good fit to help him work this all out. Steve had asked Danny to just drop him off and not wait around. He would call him afterward to get a ride. He knew he could ask any of his ohana to come pick him up but he was trying not to involve anyone else in his problems. Having to run Danny halfway across the world to Quantico had been bad enough. He was more than grateful to have such a good friend but some things he couldn't inflict on others. He could do this alone. It was best that way.

"McGarrett, Steven J." was called out from one of the side doors to the large waiting area. There were several others in the room, male and female, uniformed and not. Steve knew some were here for their annual psych eval - the one he couldn't possibly pass right now or maybe never again.

He took a breath and stood to follow the efficient looking corporal through the open doorway. Everything seemed surreal. Maybe it was just the meds. He'd have to find a way to stop taking them without anyone finding out. The only thing that had felt real to him in a long time was his partner's hug at their reunion in the psych ward.  Right now he longed for the cool embrace of the ocean he so desperately wanted to be in right now instead of this dismal place.

He was shown into a small, surprisingly comfortable looking office that held a couple of upholstered chairs in front of a dark mahogany desk. On the walls were large photos of outdoor scenes. They looked to be taken here on Oahu. Some were close-ups of plants or birds. All of them were colorful . . . or at least he assumed they were. Everything seemed so washed-out right now. Ever since he’d woken up at Ramstein, everything had seemed faded and diminished. There was no vibrancy to anything; no feeling other than the anxiety and restlessness not entirely dampened by the meds. It was with him every waking moment. His body could be nearly immobilized with medication yet his mind would still be racing until exhaustion would claim it for a few short hours until the nightmares would start.  Danny had to be sick of waking nearly every night to peel him off the walls. His friend was starting to look almost as hollow-eyed as he knew he did himself.

The corporal told him to take a seat and the doctor would be with him in a moment. Steve knew 'a moment' could mean anything from seconds to what could be at least another hour. He sat as requested and tried to calm himself with the deep breathing exercises that had been successful in the past though they’d been only marginally helpful since his return.

After only another five minutes or so, there was a soft knock on the door and a compact dark-haired man entered. Though it seemed odd that one would knock on their own door, startling someone with PTSD or ASD was never a good idea.

"Commander McGarrett" he said extending his hand to shake Steve's, "I'm Captain David Esquivel. It's nice to meet you."

"Sir" Steve responded automatically as he stood at attention.

"No need for that. If we're going to keep meeting like this, I'd prefer you call me by the name my mother gave me; it's David or just Dave if you like" he smiled. "May I call you Steve or do you prefer Steven?"

"Uhh, Ss...Steve, call me Steve." stammered the tall man not sure why it was so hard to get his own name out of his mouth.

"Have a seat, Steve. We don't have to be formal here. Actually it's much better if we're not."

McGarrett, rather stiffly sat in one of the wine-colored chairs. On a wooden stand in the corner of the small office was a terrarium complete with a miniature fountain. There were small delicate plants interspersed among the carefully fastened stones that strove to look like a natural waterfall. The burbling water provided a pleasant background noise.

"So, Steve" began the shrink, "my friend at Quantico, Alan Caldwell, asked that I specifically take you on as a patient. He seemed very impressed with you and it's not easy to impress Alan. You must be a special person to do so." he smiled showing white teeth with a wide spacing between the two in front. Steve thought it gave him a sort of Alfred E. Newman appearance. It was disarming.

The tall man said nothing, nodding to acknowledge he was being spoken to.

"He also said you were, shall we say, a little on the quiet side. You know, for this to do you any good, you will have to talk to me at some point. I understand that what you've experienced is more than disturbing but not talking about it will only make it worse. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Steve began to answer with just another nod of his head but thought perhaps his silence could be taken as indifference or worse yet, hostility. "Yes, I understand." he said quietly.

"Good." said the doctor waiting in vain for Steve to add something to his brief acknowledgement.

"Ookaay then. Can you tell me what's going on with you? Nightmares, flashbacks, anxiety, unstable moods?"

"All of the above I suppose." admitted Steve with a slight smile, thinking _, I'm sure he already knows how fucked-up I am, it's gotta be in my file._

Esquivel scribbled something down in his notes. Steve could recognize Caldwell's distinctive scrawl on the paperwork in front of his newest shrink. Though, much to his team's consternation, he was very good at reading upside down, he wasn't quite close enough to make out what it said.

 _Yup it's all documented there,_ he thought _, my officially noted insanity._

"Why don't we get right down to business? The sooner we do, the sooner you'll improve. You already look like you're anticipating an 'inquisition' but it won't be that bad, honest." said Esquivel with a smile that reminded Steve once again of the _Mad Magazine_ character.

The doctor is aware that this session, no doubt the first of many, would be fruitless. Getting the man to acknowledge what had happened during his deployment was going to be tough.

David Esquivel took his job seriously. He held the lives of his patients in his hands almost as though he was a surgeon rather than a therapist. Even getting clearance to hear the dark secrets of men and women like this had been difficult to say the least. Much of McGarrett's file had been redacted and would require the direct input of his patient to fill in the gaps.

"What do you want to accomplish in these sessions Steve?" he asked. It was a standard question asked of all new patients.

Nonetheless, Steve looked surprised; a kind of deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. Still, it was better than the blank wall that had been present a moment before. Esquivel almost chuckled.

"I … I uhh don't know. I guess just to feel normal again."

"What do you define as normal?"

 _Dammit_ , thought the SEAL, _the guy isn't going to let me just blow him off with vague answers._   Steve just shrugged in reply.

Esquivel could see the wall go higher, the fortification acquire an extra layer. McGarrett may have been caught by surprise this one time but it wasn't going to happen again. The lieutenant commander was not going to be an easy patient.

Esquivel loved a challenge.

"Alan says you've had some brief flashes of memory about a woman holding an apple? Can you tell me anything about that?" asked the doctor leaning back in his chair.

"No, nothing" said Steve almost mechanically. He couldn't talk about that. How could he talk about something he knew would destroy him if he ever fully remembered it? All it took was the flicker of the image. A nanosecond of remembrance and everything in him wanted to run screaming from it, from what he'd done. He couldn't, he wouldn't.

Esquivel could almost see the SEAL begin to withdraw even further into himself.

"Okay, we'll save that for the next session." smiled the doctor. He wasn't going to let him off the hook but having him stress out at the first session wouldn't be productive. This was going to be a tough one. Here was a man who wouldn't get better until he remembered what had happened to unhinge him but the memory itself could be enough to send him over the edge once and for all. It was going to be a delicate balancing act.

Though McGarrett was relieved it didn't show on his face. He'd already retreated into his fortress. He was safe behind its walls for now.

Esquivel changed the subject. "How are you doing on the meds? Are you any less anxious?"

"Some."

"Okay, let's get more specific. If you had no meds, how would you be feeling right now?"

"Uhh, more anxious?"

The doctor, once again, suppressed a smile. "By anxious, do you mean frightened? Angry, what?"

"Both."

"What are you frightened of?"

There was a long pause. Right now there were so many possibilities. He finally answered, "Myself."

Esquivel was taken by surprise at the straightforward answer. After a longer pause than usual, he asked, "Why are you frightened of yourself? What do you think you'd do?"

"Look," said Steve, hands bunching into fists, hazel eyes seeming to bore into the shrink’s very soul,"I almost killed my best friend and got myself shot in the middle of an airport. I know it's in your notes. What the fuck do you think I should be afraid of?"

"What caused that reaction? What set you off?" calmly responded the doctor.

"I don't know." said Steve through clenched teeth, fighting to contain what threatened to break loose.

"I think you do know. What aren't you telling me?"

Expression now stone-like, the SEAL had changed his focus from the shrink to the far wall. There would probably be no further information from the man who was all about control but whose life was now in freefall.

"Steve, you have to talk about it. If you don't talk about it, you may never recover from this. You're a smart guy; probably one of the more intelligent patients I've had - I've read your file. I'm sure you know of others who are locked in their own personal hells. You _know_ what can happen if this issue isn't dealt with. You _know_ that some people never recover fully. Give yourself a chance to climb out of the hole you're in. I know you're suffering.

"Talking won't do any good. I'll just have to get over it." quietly answered the commander, perhaps with more conviction than necessary.

Esquivel, sighed in frustration but his reply was calm and measured. "If you don't 'get over it' as you say, it means you can't go back to work. I don't have the final say about returning to the Governor's Task Force but, if someone asked me if you should, my answer at this moment would be negative. I can, however, recommend if you should or shouldn’t return to duty with the military. I know you, yourself wouldn't think it's a good idea to have someone as . . . . fragile," said the doctor trying to find a word that wouldn't be too harsh, "leading the charge."

Steve looked at him stonily. He'd already come to the conclusion that his career as a SEAL was probably over. They certainly wouldn't want a head-case like him back but . . . he had to go back to his team. His life had to count for something. What would he do if he couldn't?"

Esquivel could see his patient starting to tremble slightly, his respiration quickening. He poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the side of his desk. Standing and bringing it to the distressed man he said, "Drink this. It will help you calm down."

A shaky hand reached out and took the glass. His patient's face was flushed. It could be from embarrassment or just from the quick rise in blood pressure - a result of anxiety.

After a few moments, Esquivel asked gently, "Better?"

Steve just shook his head yes. _What the hell! Why couldn't he just answer a couple of questions without getting the vapors like a Victorian debutante?_

"Steve, it's okay. Whatever happens here, you'll be safe. There's nothing I haven't heard before. _Nothing_ that could shock me. I've been doing this for a few years now. I was a SEAL, like you, until I couldn't be any longer. Actually, I did myself a favor by opting out and going back to school. Now, I try to help people like us. I know what it takes to do what you've done."

"You have no idea what I've done!" Steve bit out through clenched teeth as he rose from his chair, nearly tipping it over.  Taking quick strides to the door he pulled it open and was gone without so much as glance back at his doctor.

Esquivel didn't try to stop him. He probably couldn't anyway, at least not without someone getting hurt. Shaking his head, he made his notes in the file and set it carefully on the corner of his desk. This wasn't going to be easy. Not even a little but it was probably the only chance the tormented man had – the SEAL's only chance of emotional survival if not physical.

After a moment, Esquivel pulled the folder back toward him to open it as he reached for the phone.

…..

He'd been walking for a while. When he finally calmed down, he looked up and saw that he was about a third of the way home. His head was pounding. The sun was once again beating down mercilessly. He fumbled in his pockets looking for his sunglasses. Finding them he sighed and, hands shaking, quickly put them on. Maybe Kamekona was right, he'd become a vampire. The sunlight was actually painful. He could feel it burning through his uniform, boring a smoking hole in the top of his head even though he wore his cap.

He was looking around, trying to decide if he wanted to call a cab or not, when his phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket he looked at the picture on the screen. _Shit!_ It was Danny. The little guy was relentless.

"McGarrett" he answered, trying not to sound guilty.

"Steven," the name was pronounced slowly and carefully, "Where are you?"

"I'm on my way home." he answered as though there was nothing wrong and he was just taking a stroll on a sunny day.

"You're a very lucky man. You know that?" said the voice on the other end, again slowly as though talking to a child.

"Danny . . . "

"Don't you Danny me!"

 _OK, here it comes._ McGarrett kept walking, wanting to throw the phone across the street but guiltily compelled to listen to his partner's righteous rant.

"What the hell did you think you were doing! Huh!"

"Danny . . . "

"No, no, you don't get to talk yet."

"But . . . "

"I said no talking, just listening dammit!"

The tall man sighed and stopped his progress to sit on a bus bench. If he had to listen to what he knew he had coming in the form of his partner's worry fueled tirade, he may as well be as comfortable as possible.

"Do you want to get better? Do you want to come back to work? If you do, you're not going about it the smartest way. You're lucky your doctor is a patient man. He called to tell me to go find you. He's not pissed but he's concerned about you. I'M CONCERNED ABOUT YOU! How dare you blow off the only guy who can help you. I can't help you! You shut me out on a daily basis! You blow me off like I'm not your family, like I don't care what happens to you! Do you know that I'm standing by you because I love you? Because you're my brother!"

"Danny, I'm . . . "

"No one said you could talk! I'm not done!"

"Danny, I'm sorry." Steve's voice broke. _What the hell is the matter with me?_ he thought, _Why can't I even talk to Danny without crying like a girl?_

"Steven?" asked the worried sounding man on the other end of the conversation.

Danny was horrified. He'd made his best friend cry. He'd made the man of steel shed tears. _When will I learn to not shoot off my mouth. The poor guy can't take my shit right now. I know that._

"Danny, I . . . I can't do this. I can't go through with it. If I even begin to think about what happened . . . I can't live with what I've done. I don't want to remember. Just the little bits that have come back to me . . . well, you saw what happened at the airport! You know what happens when I try to sleep! Please, just let me go. Let me go away somewhere. I can't be what you want me to be any more. I'm not what you think I was. I'm not even what I thought I was. Danny, please . . . please . . ."

"Steve, where are you? I'll be there in a couple of minutes. Just tell me where you are!" The detective felt his own tears beginning to flow. _What had he done?_

There was no answer on the other end of the connection, just the faint sound of someone sobbing.

"Steven!"

  



	16. The Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His ohana knows that something is seriously wrong as, once again, Steve goes on the run. Maybe this time he can escape the demons that continue to haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was at the request of a reader who wanted to know more about the homecoming. I hope this flashback isn't too confusing. Your comments would be much appreciated.

**The night of the homecoming:**

 

Danny knew he’d eventually have to tell Chin and Kono what’s been going on with Steve.

They'd come to welcome their leader home and he'd stayed downstairs only long enough to greet them, say as few words as possible and, after giving a brief smile, announce that he’s tired and needs to sleep. Chin had placed his hand on his friend's shoulder to bid him goodnight and felt Steve flinch as muscles tensed beneath the T-shirt. Kono kissed him lightly on the cheek but didn't put her arms around him again.

"Remember to take your meds." said Danny quietly, "They're all laid out for you." Steve nodded without saying anything then slowly walked up the stairs.

As soon as they heard the door to his room close, Chin immediately turned to Danny to quietly ask, "What's going on brah? Steve doesn't look all that good. I thought you said he was on the mend?"

Kono, though she didn't react at the time, had noticed Steve's rather wooden hug. She'd attributed it to the possibility that his unseen injuries were still painful but something wasn't right and she knew it.

"Yeah, Danny." added Kono, her smooth face one of concern, "He doesn't seem like himself and we've seen him injured before. Why is the boss so trashed looking . . . and so quiet, even for him? " she asked worriedly

"Well, you know he was pretty banged up and he's still on medication - muscle relaxants, antibiotics . . . stuff like that." Danny punted. At least it wasn't a lie. Steve _had_ been physically injured and was still recovering from it and the drugs he mentioned were part of the medicinal cocktail he'd been prescribed.

The cousins didn't really seem convinced with his answer but let it slide for the moment, turning to give each other a look.

While they put away the groceries Danny related to them the story of the tragedy at the aquarium but, of course, left out the part that was Steve's reaction to it.

The cousins stayed to eat some deli sandwiches they'd brought for everyone to share. While washing them down with Longboards they caught Danny up on the goings on of Five-0. After an hour or so they bade goodnight to their friend.

Chin, who'd nursed only the one beer, was the designated driver this night and drove his cousin home. They'd actually expected to talk to Steve a bit longer and beside being a little disappointed that he'd gone to bed so quickly after their arrival, they were worried. He seemed at the same time tense and spacey and though their boss was never known for his loquaciousness, (they had Danny for that), he was way too subdued.

The night appeared starless and the air was still as their SUV pulled out of the driveway. The darkness seemed to hold something ominous. Chin couldn't shake the feeling.

After a minute on the road home, Kono said, "Something's not right Cuz. Danny isn't giving us the whole story. Steve definitely wasn't himself. What do you think's going on?"

Chin, who'd been thinking the exact same thing could only answer, "Maybe it's something we shouldn't know. Steve is entitled to his privacy."

"Cuz, we're ohana. If something is wrong shouldn't Danny let us in on it? Maybe we can help."

"I'm sure if Danny thought we could help, he'd tell us what's going on. Let's just wait a while. Whatever it is will either resolve itself or one of them is going to let us in. Of course, Steve will say that everything is fine even if it isn't but we have to trust Danny to take care of him for now. Did you notice how tired Danny looked too? Lots of stress there somewhere."

Kono just chewed on her thumbnail for the rest of the trip home. Something wasn't right.

….

**Today:**

The sun beat down relentlessly as he walked and jogged and walked some more. Right now it even register that he would eventually have to stop somewhere. His head is a jumbled mess. Flashes of the present had become entangled with flashes of the past. Nothing seemed to flow in a linear progression. His thoughts jerked and shuddered like a film on a malfunctioning movie projector. His head ached unmercifully.

_The tables had turned so quickly. The hunters had become the hunted. The ambush had taken out Parkman in the first volley. Hannaman had made it another day before being taken down by the sniper hidden in a cave on the face of the cliff above them. One moment the young soldier was kneeling beside Steve extolling the beauty of his new daughter, Hannah, (though he didn't give it voice, Steve thought it cruel to give the child such an alliterative name. 'Hannah Hannaman' was just disaster waiting to happen when she was old enough to enroll in school. Her classmates weren't going to let it slide)._

_The proud father had just handed back the small photo to his commander when the shot rang out._

_The bullet caught him in the throat just above his vest._

_Steve felt a warm spray of liquid hit his face._

_..._

"Chin!" called Danny across the office, his voice close to panic.

"What's up Danny?" asked the cool Hawaiian, looking calmly up from his paperwork at his desk; never one to register alarm no matter what was going on.

"We need to track Steve's phone! He's on his way back from . . . Tripler and something's happened." Danny was still trying his best to keep Steve's secrets under wraps.

Chin immediately strode to the smart table and pulled up tracking for Steve's phone. The app had come in handy too many times to count.

After a brief moment the detective announced, "Looks like he's near the corner of Keola Street and Lanakila Avenue. That's about five miles from here."

As Danny ran toward the door he yelled over his shoulder, "Come with me! We're going to go get him!"

Chin looked at him curiously but didn't hesitate to follow.

The Camaro was parked right outside the front doors of the palace. The blonde flipped on the switch for the lights but left the siren off. Bullying into the heavy traffic on Ala Moana, they made their way toward the last place from which they'd gotten a ping.

"You gotta tell us what's going on Brah." said Chin watching Danny's tense profile beside him as the blonde steered their way across town. Gripping the wheel so tightly he looked about to break it, he bit his lips then breathed out a sigh as though he'd come to a grave decision.

"Steve's not doing all that well Chin. I'm sure you guys saw it when you came over to his house the other night."

"Yeah, we saw it but we figured you or Steve would tell us when you were ready to. Kono's pretty worried about him. We both are."

"You already know that when I took off a few days ago it was to go get him from Quantico where they'd sent him after his last mission went bust. He'd been pretty well trashed physically but nothing that he wasn't gonna recover from. You know what he's like; pretty much indestructible like he's made of Teflon coated titanium or something." Danny made a fast right turn that made the tires screech across the asphalt, one that would have earned a rant if Steve had done it.

Chin waited patiently for the rest of the explanation, his gut tightening at what he'd guessed may be coming.

"Well, this time, getting physically trashed wasn't the only thing that happened. When I got there . . . " Danny hesitated as if forcing himself to spill the rest of it, "When I got there, he was in a locked ward – the psychiatric wing."

"Shit." was the only thing Chin could come up with while he was thinking, _What the hell had happened? What could make the strongest, toughest man I know fall apart?"_

"Yeah. When I first saw him he was almost catatonic. Part of it was the meds he'd been given but not all of it."

Danny turned to look at his passenger, pale eyes shiny with unshed tears, "Whatever happened, he's not talking about it. He has to do that Chin or . . . or he's lost. We'll never get him back." Danny's throat had tightened so that the last sentence was only a painful whispered rasp.

"He has us Danny. He has his ohana to get him through this. We'll help. Don't worry." Chin said the words but didn't know if he actually had absolute faith that Steve could be saved. He'd known others who'd struggled with PTSD and it hadn't always worked out so well for them. They continued to be the walking wounded, the bloodied warriors who'd never find their way home. He felt as though a heavy stone settled on his heart. They had to find him and bring him back.

"Turn right. He should be somewhere around here." said the Hawaiian.

Danny pulled the car to a stop as their eyes searched the empty intersection. This wasn't a very heavily travelled street and it was almost deserted at this hour.

A bus rumbled past the bus bench on the opposite corner. Chin glanced at its passing but something on the bench beyond caught his eye.

Getting out of the car without saying anything to Danny, he crossed the street. The blonde detective followed him, easily dodging the lone car that rattled past.

At the bench Chin reached down to pick up an object lying in the sun – Steve's phone.

…..

_Heidegger was screaming in pain. His cries echoed from the canyon walls. They cut into the dry air to float there like jagged shards of weightless glass._

_The gut wound had surely caused massive infection by now. The man was begging Steve to put him out of his misery - the fever making him hallucinate and ramble incoherently between the pleas for release from this hell._

_Powerless to help him, every time he stopped to turn around, a rifle butt would crash into his shoulder or ribs or back; whichever was the easiest target. "I need to help him!" he yelled in Pashto, the language of his captors though he'd heard words in Dari. One of them also spoke English._

_Rather than beat him this time, they only laughed, saying, "Only Allah can help him now. He will be dead by morning, kutta. Don't bother. You have your own problems."_

_He grit his teeth and tried once again to turn to help his brother. The blow was to the back of his head this time. The bleached light of the noonday sun was the last thing he saw as it all went to black._

 


	17. Rain Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is still running. He's still lost but, perhaps, someone has found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was simplified from its original version posted on ff.net to make it less confusing. I hope it's an improvement. I will be reworking the first few chapters posted here as well to, hopefully, improve them.

 

He was cold all the time now. It didn't matter how he was dressed. It didn't matter the temperature; it could be forty-five or a hundred-five. It didn't matter. He was always cold.

He'd paid a fisherman to take him to Lanai.  The money from his pawned watch wasn't going to go very far but at least it got him out of Honolulu. He may have figured out a way to take a plane for the trip to the smaller island but, right now, his skill at logistics wasn’t the best. He didn't trust himself to take one of the commuter flights between islands. He’d be crammed into a small space with other passengers.  What if he had a flashback during the flight? It wasn’t worth the risk and it would be too easy to trace. His team would be on him in a flash. He hadn’t the cash to hire a private plane so that was out.

He’d been afraid the guy with the battered little fishing boat would turn him down. After all, a stranger in worn clothing, (courtesy of the Salvation Army store), offering cash to take him from Honolulu to Lanai was a little out of the ordinary. Most of the travel between the islands was by air. There'd be no earthly reason for this request for a ride on a fishing boat to be on the up and up.

But, luckily, the guy had been desperate enough for funds to take him on as a passenger.  Also luckily, he hadn't been dumped overboard in the Kaiwi Channel by an unscrupulous boat captain.

Exhausted, he leaned back on the weathered bench and closed his eyes. The sunlight that glowed through his lids made his shuttered vision a field of blood red. The engines droned on as they took him away from his ohana; the one he'd failed.

As the battered old tub cut plowed through the waves at a surprisingly good clip, the wind whipped off their surface and he felt the spray hit his skin as he tasted salt on his tongue.  In that brief flash he was there again.  He recoiled in horror as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest.

But it was only ocean water. Just water. Not blood. He isn’t in a foreign country; he’s home. He repeated the words half aloud over and over as he willed his heart to slow its frantic pace.  _It's just water, it's just water, it's just . . ._

Sometimes there seemed to be no clear boundary between memory and reality. It was all just so fucked-up.  Tears stung his eyes but he refused to let them fall as his pulse finally began to slow.  He took several shaky breaths as the tingling feeling from the sudden flood of adrenaline slowly left his extremities.

They were nearly to Lanai now; one of the islands he'd vowed to keep safe. But how is he going to do that? How could he keep anyplace or anyone safe? The best he could do right now is to keep everyone safe from himself.  The best he could do is to get as far away as he can and stay there so he wouldn’t hurt them. It’s all he could do for now . . . and maybe forever.

The latest flashback finally receding, he tried to push away the thoughts that replaced it.  The ones that constantly nagged him.  He took a deeper breath, closing his eyes he let the rocking of the boat lull him. Though it didn’t take away the chill at his core, the sun actually felt good right now. When he'd first gotten back, it had only felt painful. He thought maybe it would never feel good again but now it helped to soothe him.

But nothing good lasts forever. Halfway through the forty-five minute trip the sky clogged with dark, heavily-laden clouds as the wind's speed picked-up significantly.

The uneasy skipper who’d kept a watchful eye on him for the entire trip actually looked relieved when he let his passenger off at his destination; Manele Small Boat Harbor.  They’d arrived just as the sky opened up and a torrent began to pound the island.

Not knowing where exactly to go once he got here, he stood in the downpour blinking water out of his eyes to survey his only vaguely familiar surroundings. Maybe he should have thought this over a bit more thoroughly.  With a tired sigh, he began walking

………………...

"GODDAMMIT!" yelled Danny in frustration. "How the hell does he expect for anything to get better when he won't let anyone help him! The diminutive detective paced back and forth in front of the bus bench as he alternated running his hands through his hair in frustration and waving them about.

Chin stood silently by, waiting for him to calm down so they could get on with the business of finding Steve.

Chin knew Steve didn't expect anyone to help him. He expected to do everything on his own. It was his father's great flaw and it was apparently genetic. Neither would ask for help. Neither realized how people felt about them. Perhaps it was just their wanting to protect people from harm: John protecting his children and his friends from Wo-Fat and right now, Steve probably thinking he should protect everyone from himself. Other than being incredibly stupid, it was just sad.

"Danny, we need to go driving around to look for him. He can't have gotten very far if he's on foot."

"Yeah, that's what I thought last time." barked the blonde detective, sounding angry and discouraged.

"Last time?" asked Chin, eyebrows raised in question, feeling the beginning of an 'uh-oh'.

"Come on let's get back in the car." said Danny, "I'll tell you while we look."

Returning to the Camaro, they quickly buckled themselves in and, as Danny turned the key and put the sleek machine into gear, he began the story of Steve's snowy adventure in Chicago.

Danny seriously doubted that Steve would try to drink himself into oblivion this time. His idiot partner wasn't dumb enough to repeat that disaster. If they didn't find him now, he had no idea where to even begin to look. Steve was born here and knew the islands well. Throw in his training and his own recalcitrant nature it meant that if he didn't want to be found he wouldn't be - at least not for a while.

Just like last time, they drove slowly through the streets. Their eyes searching for the tall, dark-haired man lost in the desert.

…..

As he trudged through the downpour; clothes wetly plastered to a spare body, his thoughts once more went to his team. He knew they'd eventually find him. Five-0 is too good at what it does for them not to. Eventually, they'd find him though he didn't know what state they'd find him in: sane, crazy, alive . . . not.

If it did come to that, he hoped it would be a stranger who discovered him. He wouldn't want to put any of them through that. They deserved better, not someone like him. He was no friend. He was only a failure, a royal fuck-up . . . a coward.  As he trudged on the dark thoughts continued to run through his head on an endless loop until, without knowing how, he suddenly found himself in a place that made him stop.

It couldn’t have been on any map he’d ever seen.  It was little more than a dirt road lined with a few weathered buildings. Water and mud flowed through the rutted center of it as rain continued to pelt down in sheets.  He spied a bench in front of what looked to be a shop of some sort and went tiredly to it; plopping down on the sodden wood for a brief rest before he continued his journey to nowhere.

……….

She spied him sitting on the bench in front of the small hardware store across the street. The heavy rain practically obscured him from view.

The only thing she could make out through the deluge was dark hair and pale skin.

She sighed thinking, _Probably just another homeless haoli who'd been lured by the promise of paradise and then had run into the stone wall of reality._ It happened.

She kept fiddling with her ancient sewing machine trying to get it to hold a stitch as the needle pushed through the flower-patterned cotton. Smiling to herself despite her frustration she realized the Singer is probably as old as she is. Right now, that seemed positively ancient. Swearing aloud when a test run on some scraps failed to yield success, she kicked the platform on which it sat then swore even louder at the pain of her foot colliding with the wooden table leg.

Machinery repair was never her forte. Malu had always taken care of that stuff along with keeping up the repairs on the household appliances and the house itself. This morning, before she left for her small shop, she'd had to place the big, galvanized, wash tub she usually used for the goats into the middle of the kitchen floor to catch the maddening drops of rain that gathered on the ceiling to splat noisily onto the linoleum. She just hoped it wouldn't overflow before she got home.

Gathering up the brightly colored pieces of her unsewn fabric, she stowed them away. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better day for machinery repair . . . you never know.

Her bag under her arm, she plopped her big plastic rain hat on her grey head and, without bothering to lock the door, (there'd never been need to do so until recently but she still clung to the old ways), she clumped down the steps into the muddy street.

The guy she'd seen from her window was still huddled there. He wasn't wearing anything that offered protection from the surprisingly heavy downpour and resembled a drowned . . . whatever. She couldn't come up with an animal that wasn't a cliché. As she walked past him she noticed that he shivered a little, wrapping his arms around himself as he stared vacantly into space.

_Dammit._

Never one to ignore a stray – hence the small but growing menagerie of abandoned, misfit and damaged animals waiting at home to be fed - she paused in her passing to look down at him.

"Ua kane, you need a meal?" she asked, hoping that's all he'd ask for; a couple of bucks for a burger or maybe a beer. If she had it, she'd give it. There were no stipulations on its use.

He looked up startled; as if surprised anyone would even ask.

She evaluated his face. It was thin with angular features and long-lashed eyes the color of deep ocean. He might even be handsome if he gained a couple of pounds and shaved the dark, scruff but, above all, it looked lost. Perhaps he wasn't dangerous. She'd be careful though.

"No ma'am" he answered politely "but thanks for asking." He was embarrassed by the question, ducking his head and then involuntarily shivering again. He knew she'd called him 'rain man'.

"Well, you do need to get out of this downpour. I'll buy you a cup of coffee to warm you up if you like. It's not a good day to be outside and I could use the company. Meet me at the diner on the corner in about twenty minutes if you want to warm up. "Up to you." With that, she walked off, wincing at what she may have gotten herself into. For all she knew, the guy could be a serial killer. From the looks of him, he was probably a drug addict. You don't get that skinny and pale from leading a healthy lifestyle. Oh well, it was a public café and besides, Malu would look after her.

Her departed husband had always warned her that someday one of her strays, human or animal, would turn around and bite her. So far, so good. Besides, she knew he was up there watching over her. When she saw him again, she'd have to thank him for doing so.

…

They searched until it grew dark.  Though the weather reports had predicted it, they’d been drenched by a sudden downpour. Kono, Kamekona and even Max had joined in. The cousins had put out the word among their many relatives to be on the lookout for the tall man and had added the warning to not approach him, just call them if he was spotted.

As before, Danny hesitated to call in the local PD. Not knowing what was currently going on in his friend's unstable mind made the situation dangerous for everyone. Steve was a highly trained and skilled warrior – a weapon unto himself. If his flashbacks took him to the desert again, he could easily hurt someone. He wasn't HPD'S favorite Navy SEAL to begin with ever since the Jameson thing and though Danny occasionally teased him about it, Steve's own confident/arrogant 'damn the torpedoes' attitude didn't sit well with the local gendarmes.

He'd also made a call to Doctor Esquivel. The shrink was very unhappy his patient was still wandering around by himself. The doctor was concerned that Steve could even be unhinged enough right now to do something 'stupid'. Esquivel didn't have to define the term for the detective. Danny had seen his friend's desperation. They agreed to keep the search under wraps for the moment but neither Steve's shrink nor his friend were hopeful that he'd be found if he didn't want to be.

…..

He shivered harder. He was soaked to the bone and so very, very, cold. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting on the bench but it must have been a while. He remembered disembarking from the ferry but not much else. After some thought he remembered that he'd come to this island as a kid. His dad and one of his dad's friends and son had come here to fish and hike. At the time it had been unspoiled by the encroachment of civilization. But, other than the Ace hardware store in front of which he sat, it didn't look much different than it had then. The miniscule settlement had never been on the tourist maps. It reminded him of one of the old songs from long ago that had a lyric about a town that was so small you could roll a rock from end to end. A brief smile crossed his face. Danny would surely hate that song too.

The old woman was right. He had to get out of the rain. The bone rattling chills threatened to nearly topple him from his perch on the bench. Maybe sitting in a café with a hot cup of coffee is a good idea.

He got stiffly to his feet and pulling his light windbreaker tighter around him, strode toward the barely visible sign that hung over the coffee shop. It wasn't a Starbucks, (thank God), and appeared to have been there for quite some time. As he entered the cafe, a tiny bell dangling from the handle of the wooden door jingled his arrival and several of its patrons looked up; suspicion openly displayed on their faces.

He ignored them and, having seen the sign at the entrance that read 'Seat Yourself', took a place at a table near the window. He realized he looked like something the cat dragged in after finding it lying in a ditch somewhere – a water filled ditch at that. He still shuddered miserably but looked up as the waitress, a young girl wearing flip-flops, (what the locals call slippers), came up to him.  She was sixteen at most with a long black braid trailing down her back.

She smiled tentatively but looked on edge as though she expected him to lunge at her with a knife or something. He smiled back, hoping it didn't look too much like a pained grimace as another wave of chills rolled over him and asked her to bring him a cup of coffee.  He told her he was waiting for someone to join him, hoping the information would somehow reassure her.

Large, almond shaped, eyes blinked back at him and she turned to go get the coffee without saying anything. _Well, so much for the old charm_ , thought McGarrett smiling to himself.

The girl returned with the steaming stoneware cup and a small pitcher of cream setting it carefully down in front of him and then disappeared again just as the grey-haired woman entered. She removed her plastic rain hat and shook the water out of it before closing the door behind her.

Seeing him at the small table, she smiled and said to the girl who'd somehow magically reappeared beside the table, "Lila, could you bring me a cup too, along with a couple of menus?" Though she knew the limited menu by heart, (considering this was the only café on this side of the island), perhaps her guest didn't. She may be able to talk him into actually eating something – he certainly looked like he could use the calories.

"Aloha, Ua Kane.” she greeted as she took her seat opposite him. “I’m glad you decided to take me up on my offer.  I welcome the company."

"Aloha nui aloha." he greeted. She looked a little surprised. Perhaps he'd lived here longer than she thought. He had a nice smile.

….

The kid tugged with all his might. He looked to be ten or so, barely strong enough to get the heavy glass door open. Chin, an amused expression on his face, went to help him open it.

Striding confidently into the middle of the office, the boy announced, "I need to see Danno."

"Excuse me?" asked Chin somewhat surprised by the boy's brazen attitude.

"The tall guy told me to ask for Danno." stated the kid without blinking; wondering why he was even being doubted.

"What tall guy?" asked Chin, hoping to hear what he wanted to hear. It had been over a week since they'd last seen Steve.

"I'm only 'sposed to talk to Danno." said the boy, refusing to answer the Hawaiian cop.

"What's your name kid?" asked Chin, hoping to get at least that much out of him.

The boy only looked up at him with dark determined eyes, his shiny bowl cut hair nearly hiding them.

"Danny! There's someone here to see you." yelled Chin toward the break room where the blonde detective had gone to refill his coffee mug. He'd been living on the stuff since his partner had disappeared.  For nearly a week they'd been frantically searching for their lost SEAL.

"What's going on?" asked Danny as he walked up to the two Hawaiians, one grown and the other not even half so, standing in the middle of the office.

"You Danno?" asked the kid, solemn expression on his small tanned face.

"I'm Detective Danny Williams" answered the blonde man, amused by the kid's serious demeanor.

"Not Danno?" queried the boy, refusing to be intimidated in the least by the two men who stood over him, badges clipped to their belts.

"Sometimes I'm called Danno, yeah." answered the detective his heart speeding up as he belatedly realized the only ones he'd allowed to call him by that name were his daughter and, reluctantly, his missing partner.

"I have something to give you then." said the boy, reaching into his pocket to pull the something out.

There in the small palm was Steve's shield. Both Danny and Chin were startled into silence as the kid stood there holding the badge out to him.

"He said not to worry, that he didn't need it anymore and that you are gonna give me twenty dollars."

"Where did you see this man? What did he look like?" quickly asked Chin; Danny seeming to be speechless for the moment.

"Twenty dollars first." said the kid with solemn conviction.

"Here, here's your twenty." said Kono as she stepped up to them after seeing Danny's and her cousin's shocked expressions.

The boy handed the badge to a still speechless Danny and took Kono's proffered twenty dollar bill, examining it carefully as though they'd try to give him a counterfeit. Satisfied it was real, he folded it to tuck into his pocket.

"He came up to us at the Starvation Army store and asked my mom if I could do a chore for him. She said okay so he handed me this and ten dollars and told me to give this to Danno at Five-0 headquarters. He looked kinda sad." added the boy.

"Is this the guy?" asked Danny, turning to pick a photo off the wall to hold in front of the kid's face. It was taken at the ceremony last year when Five-0 had been awarded a commendation for meritorious service to the State of Hawaii. It showed Steve receiving a plaque from the governor. Danny had it framed and hung it on the office wall mostly to annoy his partner.

The kid took it from him and studied it intently before handing it back and saying, "Yeah that's him but he's kinda skinnier than in the picture . . . and his hair is longer and he needs to shave."

"When did he give this to you?" asked Danny, now holding up the shield.

"Yesterday. My mom couldn't bring me here until today. She's waiting outside for me. I have to go now."

"We need to talk to your mom too kid." said Danny as he started toward the door.

"Crap." said the kid, his mom only knew about the ten. Now, she'd find out about the other money too. Life just wasn't fair sometimes.

 


	18. Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve may have found a friend to help him out of his darkness but others with less than good intent have found him as well. Bad things may be coming.

  
  
  


**A few days ago:**

He'd exhausted all of his cash. Last night was the final one he could afford at the dilapidated 'no tell motel' where he’d been for the past five days. They didn't ask questions there. He was just another of its shady denizens seeking anonymity for reasons immoral, illegal or maybe just insane.

He'd fit right in with the guy who argues politics with himself all night long in the room next door and the woman downstairs who entertained 'gentlemen callers' at all hours. If he was still a cop he would have found a lot to do there but he wasn't any such thing. His cop days are over, his SEAL days are over, his life is over. He just hadn't yet lay down to die.

Standing on the sidewalk and blinking up at the sunlight that broke through the clouds overhead he shivered. It must be cooler than he thought. Even when it rained it wasn't usually cold here but he'd been freezing for days.

Entering the cluttered but neatly kept shop, he walked toward the pony-tailed clerk standing behind the counter at the back of the room.

Brow furrowed in concentration, the guy who looked about his own age had been methodically checking off some kind of list.  Pausing from his task he looked up to ask cheerfully, “Hey, brah. Howzit? You buying or selling today?”

He really doesn't want to part with it but it's the fastest and easiest way to get funds. Cath had given him the expensive timepiece a couple of Christmases ago. Danny liked to tease him that with all its bells and whistles, one could probably tell what time it was on Mars and then it could make you a cup of coffee. To quote his sometimes tech-challenged partner, _'You know, that's what a watch is supposed to do – just tell you the time, not predict the friggin' future'._

The thought that comes to mind as he removes it from his wrist is:  _Considering its owner’s past, it’s a good thing it can't predict the future._   _Whatever life holds for me at this point certainly doesn’t look to be all that bright._ He treasured it mostly because it was from Cath and, well, it’s a really good watch.  It had survived numerous situations that would have done in a lesser one.  He'd left it behind during his last deployment. It was unwise to take anything too precious or too personal on a mission. It was actually against orders to do so. When he'd been captured, they'd stripped him of anything of value but, other than his weapons and the cheaper watch he wore, there wasn't anything worth having.

The not unsympathetic clerk eyes him knowingly. Taking in the rumpled uniform and unshaven appearance, his thoughts are: Here's someone who celebrated a little too hard when he came back from wherever.  At least the scruffy sailor had made it back in one piece. Women and booze can be an expensive celebration. This wouldn't be the first guy to blow it all on such things and then need money to get home.

The tall man pushed the watch across the counter to him then just stood quietly; neither begging or bargaining to get a higher offer.  He'd give the guy a fair price for it. He usually tried a little harder to work with the military. The watch is a good one; not too worn looking. It was undoubtedly expensive when originally purchased but his parameters are pretty clear as to what he can offer for it. His boss would have his head if he went outside them.

"Your choice man. One-fifty to pawn it or seventy-five more if you want to sell it." said the clerk.  He waited patiently as his customer quietly mulled it over.

Without a change in expression, the tall man gave his answer. "I'll take the two-twenty-five."

The clerk smiled and said, "You got it, brah."

Thought Steve as he waited for the man to complete the paperwork and pay him for the watch.   Who knows if I'll ever need it again? Who knows if I'll ever see Cath again? Surely, she'd not want to be with him now. Danny swore that he hadn't told her of his time in the psych ward but he didn't know if he believed him.

He didn't know what to believe anymore. Sometimes it felt as though everyone was lying to him; watching and waiting for him to take a misstep or do something wrong so they could lock him up again. Sometimes he knew those thoughts were just paranoid bullshit. Sometimes he could fight them. Sometimes he couldn't.

He had to show his driver's license and sign the receipt before the clerk would hand over any money. The state is pretty strict about such things.  He watched as, accompanied by a verbal tally, the bills were neatly laid on the counter before him.

"Good luck to you. Hope you get home soon." said the clerk who picked up the small stack of paper, neatening it before handing him the payment.

Giving a brief smile and nodding his head in thanks, the tall man took the money and walked back out to the busy street.

He knew he should eat something but he still wasn't hungry. The meds had pretty much worn off but his stomach felt no better. These days it’s always in an uncomfortable knot. He finally compromised and bought a milkshake at a place a couple doors down from the pawnshop. He wound up drinking most of it but eventually its sweetness seemed overpowering.  He tossed the remainder into the rusty trash can that sat next to the burger stand. The small establishment’s garishly painted sign boasted 'Best Burgers on the Island'. He'd have to find out if that was true another time . . . if there was to be another time.

The street is teeming with traffic and passersby. It seems so loud. He just wants to be away from it; somewhere quiet. He'd been without sleep for so long now. Never being alone for long after darkness claimed him, he’s almost afraid to sleep. She’d always find him. He'd see her outstretched hand, see the baby's big eyes until the flash of the blade made him scream and he woke himself up. Yup, he'd fit right in with the rest of them at the Island Breeze Motel.

The Prozacin could keep her away for the most part but the price he paid was disconnection from his own senses and the inability to keep down anything he ate. He didn't know if he was glad he was without it or not. It didn't matter now. He couldn't go back to his house to get it. His team was looking for him. He knew they were. And, if he couldn't get away from here, Danny would eventually find him and yell at him for being an idiot.  He’d already embarrassed himself by crying like a little kid that last time. Maybe he is an idiot but his friend didn't understand. Nobody did.

Spotting the Salvation Army store on the other side of the street, he decided to head toward it. His funds were limited so it was the best way to get something to wear. He still had on his khakis. He'd taken his cap and whatever ribbons were pinned on his shirt and shoved them into his pocket. He shouldn't even wear the uniform now. He'd disgraced it. He had no right.

Looking around to make sure no one had followed him, (though he knew it was an irrational thought), he entered the cool dimness of the store. It smelled of old clothes and books and the musty belongings of people who'd gone on to better things or maybe just gone. It wasn't really a bad smell, just an old one.

Signs hanging from the ceiling pointed him toward the section that held men's clothing. Quickly sorting through the racks of pants and shirts he found a pair of faded Levis and a blue T-shirt that were in decent shape. They totaled seven-fifty. He didn't know where he was going so it might be a good idea to get a jacket of some sort. The selection was pretty sparse. There wasn't anything in his size – not even taking into account his weight loss. He finally settled on a windbreaker that was way too large but was in good condition and an acceptable color. His total was now twelve dollars.  He'd keep his belt but the shoes had to go. Rummaging around in the footwear section, he found a pair of flip-flops for a dollar. His new wardrobe is complete.

After paying for them, he took his purchases to one of the dressing rooms and changed. Removing the contents of his pockets for transfer to his old/new Levi's, he pulled out his shield. He couldn't just leave it in the bin he intended to put his clothing in. Having a cop's badge fall into the wrong hands could be dangerous. Biting his lips, he made a decision.  Bundling up his clothing he exited the changing room.

Evaluating the people he passed as he meandered around the store, he came upon a kid shopping with his mother. Pretending to go through a rack of clothing, he observed them for a bit before approaching. He figured the kid would probably be happy to have a little pocket money.

"Ma'am?" he asked, coming up to her slowly so as not to startle her.

"Yes?" she replied suspiciously; taking in this tall, thin, man's somewhat scruffy appearance.

"Would it be alright if I hired your son to do a chore for me?"

"What chore would that be?" she asked, subtly pushing the kid behind her.

"I could pay him . . . uhh . . . ten dollars?"

"To do what?" she demanded as the kid peeked out eagerly from behind her protective barrier.

Ten dollars – yeah! thought the boy.

"I need to get this badge back to a friend of mine at Iolani Palace. It's the headquarters for the Governor's Special Task Force. It won't take long; all he has to do is drop it off."

….

**Today:**

While Chin held onto the kid, Kono went outside to fetch his mom.  Having been led reluctantly into the office, the woman gave the boy an exasperated look as she took a seat next to him in front of Danny's desk.

Attired in the brightly colored uniform sported by employees of a large chain of fast food restaurants, she looked as though she’d come straight from work. Her dark hair was tied into a bun at the back of her head; a few stray wisps of it had escaped to fall about her face. Perched on her nose were inexpensive eyeglasses with rather thick lenses . . . and she looked tired.  At a disapproving expression from his mother, the kid had slumped dejectedly in his chair.

"Mrs. . . . ?" began the detective waiting for the woman to supply her name.

"Kekumu” she said. My name is Sheri Kekumu"

"What is your son's name? He seems to think we don't need to know." said Danny, turning his head toward the kid and giving him a stern look which didn't seem to faze the boy at all.  He looked back defiantly from under his shiny mop, apparently still pissed he was going to have to share his bounty with his mother.

"Look, if Mikey gave you any trouble, I'm sorry. I can't do anything with him lately. Since his dad left, he's been angry about everything. He's gotten into trouble a couple of times in the last few months. Maybe talking to some policemen would be a good idea." With that she gave her son a pointed look which was not lost on him. The kid seemed to shrink further back into his seat.

At least the little bastard is intimidated by something , thought Danny as he smiled tightly at the beleaguered woman, "No, ma’am, Mikey's not in any trouble. We just need to get some information from him – and you – about the man who hired him to bring the badge here. We've been searching for him for a while and your information may help us locate him."

"Oh my God!" squeaked the woman, "Is he dangerous? I knew he looked a little too scruffy to be law abiding."

"No ma'am" answered Chin, who leaned against the console near the window; Kono seated next to him atop its glass surface. "He's . . . a friend and he's not dangerous. He's a good guy."

Not dangerous to anyone but himself , thought Kono without saying it aloud.

"Mrs. Kekumu, your son said that he came up to you at the 'Starvation' Army store?" smiled Danny seriously trying to control himself and not grab the little brat who sat scowling brazenly at him.

"Uhh, yeah, Mikey always calls it the Starvation Army instead of the Salvation Army. It was kind of cute at first but I'm afraid it's maybe a little too close to the truth when my paycheck doesn't quite stretch far enough at the end of the month." she joked half-heartedly.

"I know what you mean." said Danny sympathetically, "Where is this store?"

"It's on Twenty-Second Avenue just off of Luawai Street."

"Mikey said the man who hired him came up to you to ask permission first?" asked Chin.

"Uhh, yeah. I figured he was being careful not to alarm me. You really can't trust anyone these days with children. You have to keep them in your sight at all times. I've warned Mikey to not to talk to strangers."

"He seems to be taking your warning to heart." smiled Danny, "He won't tell us much."

"That's because I don't know that much, cop!" resentfully blurted the kid.

Peering over the top of her glasses, Mrs. Kekumu again gave her son a hard look. This time, the kid looked down. He knows he’s in trouble.

"There wasn't much to it. He just asked if my son would like to earn ten-dollars by taking that badge to Five-0 and dropping it off. I think he said for Mikey to give a message to someone about not worrying. That's all I really remember about the conversation."

"Your son identified this man as the one who hired him," said Danny, pushing the framed photo toward her across his desk. The woman picked it up and after looking at it briefly said, "Yeah, that's him but he looks different – maybe thinner and . . . scruffier. Is he someone important?"

"Yeah, he's someone important." grimly stated Kono. "Very important."

"Do you remember what he was wearing?" asked Danny, quick to deflect any questions Mikey's mother may have.

"Yeah, ratty Levi's, slippers, some kind of colored T-shirt . . . you know, the usual thing people wear who don't have much money. Oh, yeah, he had on one of those nylon windbreakers. I noticed it because it was too big for him. Kinda gave him a scarecrow vibe . . . you know?"

Chin inwardly winced. Steve was always simply but neatly dressed in his everyday uniform of cargoes and T-shirt. Not fancy but always presentable. Imagining his neat-freak boss in anything less is a little disturbing.

"Well, thank you for your information. You've been very helpful. Your son earned his twenty-dollars today." smiled Danny as the kid gave him a look that would have him six-feet under if the boy wasn't only ten years old and the size of a skinny raccoon. The kid's mom could use the money and it would teach her son a lesson to not hide things from the woman who supported his scrawny little ass.

Mrs. Kekumu looked pointedly at her son and, without saying anything, the boy pulled the neatly folded bill from his pants pocket and handed it to his mother.

She sighed and told him, "Mikey you can have some of this but the rest has to go for groceries this week. If that job comes through for me, I'll give you the rest of it on payday, okay?"

"Okay." mumbled the kid. "Can we go now?"

"Yeah" smiled Danny, "You can go now. Mind your mom. Life isn't easy for her right now and she needs all the help you can give her. Understand?"

"Yeah" responded the kid grudgingly.

"Good boy." said Danny, rising to usher the two out of his office. "Thanks for the information and good luck on that job Mrs. Kekumu." he said as she walked toward the door, her son in tow.

"Good luck finding your friend." she replied, grabbing Mikey by his collar and steering him out the exit.

Said Danny as soon as she was out of sight, "Kono, let's get to that Starvation Army store!"

….

Rain still poured down in buckets. Squalls completely obscured the other side of the street.

He’s glad he'd taken up the old woman's offer of a cup of coffee. His clothes are beginning to dry and he’s marginally warmer than he'd been when he first sat down at the table. At least the shivering has almost stopped.

"So, Ua Kane, what should I call you?" asked the woman as she looked across the table at her still sodden and subtly trembling companion.

"Ua Kane is fine ma'am. It's as good a name as any." smiled Steve, hoping she wouldn't be offended by his lack of an answer.

"Okay, Rain Man it is." she smiled back. Even though he wouldn't tell her his name for whatever reason, he seemed nice enough. Oh well, everyone has their secrets. She knows she has her own.

"You sure I can't get you to eat anything? No offense boy but you could stand a little kau kau."

"I . . . I'll eat something but I would like to buy you breakfast if I may?

"Umm, okay" she replied surprised the man has any money. He doesn’t look like someone who has a penny to his name. "It's been a while since a handsome man has offered to buy me breakfast." Then she cackled, "I think that came out wrong.

He smiled back at her. A good smile. No sadness in it this time.

They placed their order with Lila and made small talk while they waited for their food. Steve realized he didn't even know the woman's name but considering he'd been reluctant to give his own, he’d really feel like an ass for asking her what it is.

Almost as though she'd read his mind, with dark eyes full of mischief, she supplied it. "By the way, my name is Kekipi Meluhia.  You can just call me Kip. Considering that we're having breakfast together, I assume you want to know what it is?"

"Your name is 'Rebellion'?" he smiled, "Your parents had an interesting take on baby names."

Again surprised at his knowledge of the language, she replied, "Yeah, well, a kahuna told them their next kid would be a handful so I guess they decided to get ahead of the game and give everyone fair warning."

"I always like to know the name of the woman who sits across from me at breakfast." he grinned.

"I bet there've been a few." she cackled again, amusedly noticing the new color creeping into his pale complexion before asking, "Say, you know anything about fixing sewing machines?"

On the other side of the room, a small group of young men had been throwing the stranger hard looks while he chatted with his companion.  Leaning toward one another across their table they began to discuss something in hushed tones.


	19. A Big Wad of Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New leads are discovered. Is the team getting closer to finding its missing leader?

Danny and Kono turned off of Luawai onto Twenty-Second and immediately spotted the big Salvation Army Store in the middle of the block. They had to park several doors down because, even with the authority of their badges, there wasn't a space to be had any closer.

Blinking against the bright sun, the compact detective hurried down the street; the tall Hawaiian woman easily keeping up beside him. As they walked along the still drying concrete the air is steamy.

Danny is at a loss as to what he may have done in a past life that would dictate he leave a place with 'normal' weather, (actual seasons – and not a one of them named 'monsoon'), to dwell in this hot, soggy, Hell.

Sweat is dripping down the center of his back as they entered the large building. Kono, of course, looked fresh and unbothered by the sauna-like conditions. Taking a brief moment for their eyes to adjust to the relative dimness, they go immediately to the register near the door.

In line ahead of them is a blue-haired old woman trying to choose between spending seventy-five cents on a bright yellow scarf or on an incredibly gaudy purple-green-orange-striped one. She dithered for what seemed an hour; first holding up the yellow in front of her and then the one Danny thought was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen; appearing as though a cat had eaten several balls of yarn and then hacked up the creation she now held in front of her.

Finally running out of patience he spoke up, "Dear, I think the yellow would look lovely on you. It goes so well with your coloring." At that, Kono almost choked on the wad of chewing gum she'd popped into her mouth to lose the lingering aroma of her garlic shrimp lunch from Kamekona's. They regularly check in with their extra-large friend to see if his 'contacts' had any news on their wayward boss. So far, all the big man could offer was food, not news.

Startled, the old woman turned and smiled saying, "Thank you young man. I was having such a hard time choosing. You know, I need something to brighten up my outfit for my lunch with my granddaughter tomorrow. She's visiting all the way from Phoenix. That's in Arizona you know."

"I'm sure, she'd be delighted to see you in that color. Right Kono?" he asked turning toward his teammate.

Eyes watering and trying not to choke, the Hawaiian could only nod her head enthusiastically. Trying to get over her introduction to 'Danny Williams - Fashion Consultant', she’s almost positive that swallowing a large lump of Juicy Fruit isn't good for you.

The old woman reached into her big plastic pocket book and drew out a small change purse.  She then proceeded to slowly, (incredibly slowly), count out coins to pay for her purchase. Taking her package and giving Danny and Kono a big lipstick-smeared smile, the old gal toddled toward the door as the woman behind the register rolled her eyes at the departing septuagenarian.

Kono, having recovered from her near ingestion of chewing gum, quickly stepped forward to present her badge saying, "We're from Five-0 and we have a few questions about one of your recent customers."

The clerk quirked her thick brows at the blonde man and the pretty young woman in front of her.  A short, plump thing with cropped curly hair and a pencil resting behind one ear, she didn't look unfriendly; just curious. "’Kay" she answered compliantly enough, "What ya wanna know?"

Danny pulled out his phone and scrolled quickly through it to find his most recent picture of Steve. It wasn't the most flattering but it was the most recent.  His partner hadn’t been aware he was being photographed and stood frowning at the flight information displayed on the electronic departure/arrival board at O'Hare. He looked tired, thin, and unhappy.

Feeling guilty for taking it, Danny had almost deleted it. Maybe those ancient cultures he'd read about in _National Geographic_ were right. Though the image hadn't captured anyone's soul, it feels like stealing when you photograph someone who’s unaware you’re doing it.. His intention had been to show the image to Steve after he'd recovered - to point out to him the contrast between _then_ and _now_ and show his damaged friend how far he'd come. Maybe the 'now' would never happen. He never thought he'd need it for something like this.

"Have you seen this man here within the last few days?" he asked; holding the device with screen facing the woman on the other side of the counter.  Leaning forward, she looked at it closely, studying the image for a long moment.

"Don't think so." she replied, "But there's so many people come through here every day you'd be surprised. Lotsa folks trying to make ends meet. You might ask Frank though, he's in the back sorting stuff. He works the cash register too. The guy doesn't look familiar to me though. Sorry."

They made their way toward where she pointed. At the very back of the store was an opening in the wall against which were leaned mattresses, metal bed frames, battered surfboards and even a pair of snow skis. The opening had a chain stretched across it with a sign attached that said 'No Customers Beyond This Point'. They quickly ducked under it and entered the warehouse-like space beyond.

In front of a dauntingly large pile of clothing atop a huge sorting table was a young local in dark pants and work shirt.

"Frank?" asked Danny, approaching the man sorting through the pile of donated apparel.

He didn't hear them. Danny yelled louder, "Are you Frank?" Startled, the young man looked up from his task, removing his earbuds and tucking them into his breast pocket. They hadn't seen the telltale leads from the IPod clipped to his shirt.

"Yeah brah, how can I help you?" His eyes quickly strayed to the comely young woman also approaching but snapped back to Danny at the flash of the shield he held up before him.

"We're from Five-0 and we need to know if you've seen this man within the last few days." announced the blonde detective.

Once again, he held up the electronic image of his partner. Frank took a quick look at it and immediately shook his head in the affirmative. "Yeah, I seen dat guy coupla days ago. He come in all military an' left all moke. What he do?"

"Nothing, he didn't do anything. We're just trying to locate him." said Danny in a clipped tone.

"What day was that?" asked Kono in a friendlier voice.

The young guy turned toward her with a smile. He'd be more than happy to cooperate with the law if it looked like this. He unashamedly took in the lithe form and full mouth of the woman in front of him.

"Day before yesterday. Not too long after we opened." he replied.

"Do you remember what he purchased?" asked Kono.

"Juss some Levi's an’ a shirt, not’ing special. Oh yeah, an’ some slippahs. What kind lolo changes nice shoes for ol’ slippahs?"

"Anything else you can tell us?" asked Danny.

"Yeah, he paid from a beeg wad of twenties. I remember 'cause I tought it was kinda ano that a guy with that much money would be shopping here. I mean dis is a place to shop when you doan have no money. Dere's some good stuff here but, if I could afford it, I would buy new, not used. You know?"

 _A big wad of twenties?_ thought Danny. He knew Steve never carried much money on him, let alone what could be described as a 'wad'. They'd been checking his credit cards to see if there'd been any withdrawals or purchases and there'd been no activity. Steve was certainly aware he could be tracked by their use. Where'd he get the money?

After asking a few more questions, they thanked Frank and exited the store to return to the un-abating sauna of the outdoors. Spotting the hamburger joint on the other side of the busy thoroughfare Danny, his stomach rumbling because of a missed morning meal, nodded toward it and crossed the street with Kono in tow. He ignored the honking of the cars he dodged around. _Let some uniform try to give me a ticket for jaywalking right now_. He was just cranky enough and frustrated enough to welcome the confrontation.

He bought himself a chocolate malt and Kono a pineapple/mango smoothie. Without saying anything but with his face screwed in disgust, he handed it to her as she smiled her thanks. Taking their time, they strolled back toward the car, intending to cross 'legally' at the corner this time. It’s amazing the difference a bit of chocolate and a jolt of sugar could make in one's mood.

Pausing to take a quick peek at the merchandise in a pawnshop window, something caught Kono's eye.

"Danny!" she exclaimed, nearly dropping her drink. Stabbing her finger at the jewelry displayed on a ratty piece of velvet behind the glass she exclaimed, "Isn't that Steve's watch!"

…..

They waited on the damp wooden walkway in front of the hardware store.

He doesn’t belong here. A haole doesn’t belong here. There’s nothing here for tourists with their loud voices and ill-behaved children.  They wanted only to buy gaudy trinkets to take home to their concrete coated lives and whose only word of the language they'd even remember ten minutes after they leave the islands is 'aloha'.

It's fine as it is. No paved roads, no traffic, no McDonald's. It's just fucking fine. There's no room for outsiders here. They only bring trouble.

Now, Kekipi had taken in another of her strays. That dog and those goats had been enough but now she had another bedraggled, unwanted mutt in tow. The woman is a pain in the ass.

They'd make sure her latest stray didn't stick around. He doesn't belong here.

  



	20. Old Pieces, New Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some who don't welcome this scruffy stranger.

 

They enjoyed their breakfast. Kip had proven to be an entertaining companion; regaling him with stories of life here in this village of less than four-hundred people.

For a brief time, his ghosts had retreated to the shadows. Rest assured they still float at the edges of his consciousness.  No real peace is to be had but here, in this moment, he's sharing a meal with a human being with whom he connects on some unexplainable level.  It feels good.

The rain is now falling straight down instead of blasting sideways in violent sheets. It’s downright cozy to be sitting at the window, watching it from a warm and dry vantage.  Having eaten most of a stack of pancakes along with a couple of eggs he'd pushed his plate away before he made himself sick with an unaccustomed amount of food.

"So, what's the issue with your sewing machine?" asks Kip's now nearly dry companion, trying not to grimace as he wills his meal to stay in place.

"Won't hold a stitch. I've been sewing on it for years and I can usually make the adjustments to get it to behave but this time it seems to be messing with me on purpose." With the frown creasing her almost unlined face, there's no hint she was trying to be funny.

Steve understands the personification of machinery. He's well versed in ascribing human motives to inanimate objects. His dad's old Marquis seemed to fuck with him on a regular basis. Just when he thought he'd solved whatever issue kept it from running 'this week' it would invent an entirely new problem. Danny had flat refused to take a ride in it again, saying _'Even if the president of the Ford Motor Company signed an affidavit stating this deathtrap won't strand us - usually on the side of a friggin' mountain I might add - NO! I will not take a ride in it with you, Steven!'_

The memory of Danny's furious but entertaining rants once again makes his mind wander to other times when he still had a 'normal' life - times when he wasn't haunted by what he'd done.

"Hey. . . Rain Man? You still with me?" he hears from across the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry." he blurts, face reddening, "Haven't really gotten any sleep to speak of lately. Must have zoned out for a moment. My apology."

"No worries keiki kane but _I'm_ the one who's supposed to wander off in the middle of a conversation.", she chuckled. "Old ladies have the privilege of doing stuff like that; along with developing an unnatural fondness for plastic flower arrangements and having way too many cats."

That made him laugh aloud. He really likes this woman. He'd realized that maybe part of this comfortable feeling is because she's somehow familiar. He can't really place her in his memory but it's an okay feeling.

"Somehow, Kip, I can't picture you with that stuff unless maybe the cats were lions and tigers."

"Yeah, well, a couple of my animals may as well be. Got a dog that will take off your leg if you give him half a chance."

Raising his eyebrows he asks, "Why would you keep a dog like that?"

"Mostly 'cause no one else will have him." she replies matter-of-factly. "We keep our distance from each other though. He'd been badly mistreated and it made him mean as a snake. Hasn't bitten me yet but he's a disagreeable old fart." then with that twinkle again she adds, "The 'not biting' thing must be professional courtesy."

Again she'd made him laugh. Actually, he almost snorts coffee out of his nose and then manages to inhale some as her punchline coincides with his last swallow of the dark brew.

"You know, I've used that coffee to remove paint.” she observes sympathetically as he tries to clear the liquid from his lungs. “I just have 'em brew me a weaker pot so it won't eat through the bucket before I can get it home."

Once he'd managed to regain some control, he coughs out, "So where do you keep this evil machine?"

"It's at my shop just down the street. Think you can fix it?"

"I'll give it a shot. That engineering degree must be good for something."

 _Great!_ she thinks as he pays the bill and they leave the restaurant. _Maybe I can get that dinosaur fixed and get back to work. He's also given me another piece of the puzzle. Engineering degree, huh?_

They dash through the still falling water to cross the muddy street to her shop. She pushes open the unlocked door and shows him where her machine sits in front of the window. She likes to work there so she can see what's happening in this small village. Not that anything ever does happen but she'd be able to see it if it did.

He glances around at the makeshift racks of brightly printed Hawaiian shirts that look ready to market. Their hangers are bunched together by fabric pattern with rubber bands securing each group together. _Chin would be in heaven here_ , he thinks.

"I've been trying to get this order completed for shipment to Honolulu. There's a boutique there that carries my stuff. I've made a decent living at it and still can if that piece of shit machine would cooperate." growled Kip, not bothering to censor her language. Actually, she never censored her language. Malu used to call her on it sometimes but she'd just tell him to shut the hell up. Life is too short to tiptoe through it.

He sits down in her sturdy wooden chair to examine the old machine. First thing he notices is that the motor doesn't seem to start smoothly when he depresses the power pedal. It makes the machine jerk to a start rather than ease into it as it should. He vaguely remembered how his mother's old machine had run and knows this isn't the norm. His mom had actually forbidden him to go anywhere near her sewing machine, knowing he'd most likely take it apart to see what made it run. He'd been a 'curious' child. She never did forgive him for the toaster thing.

"Do you have a screwdriver?" he asks of the woman peering intently over his shoulder.

"Should have one here somewhere." she answers, turning to go to a cabinet on the other side of the room. He waited patiently as she sorted through what he would probably consider a junk drawer, hearing the clinking and rattling of whatever was in there as she pawed through it.

"Nope, can't find it." she finally said in frustration, "I'll have to go get one at the hardware store. It's just across the street. It'll only take a minute."

"I'll go." he said, "Might find something else useful while I'm there. You stay dry." With that, he was up and out the door before she could protest.

She watches him gracefully hop across the large pools of water that had formed in the muddy street and can't shake the feeling that Ua Kane looks familiar somehow. Maybe it was what made her invite him for coffee. _Nah, who am I kidding?_ she chides herself, He'd just looked like someone who could use a meal . . . but still . . .

Here is a new puzzle for her to figure out. She likes puzzles. When she can't sleep, she sometimes lays them out on her kitchen table to work on them into the wee hours. Some had thousands of pieces and when they were completed she was reluctant to take them apart; not wanting to destroy the beautiful images they'd formed.

But sometimes there were pieces missing. The puzzles are old and a couple of them she'd put together and taken apart more than once or twice. It’s almost like the missing pieces walked away of their own accord. Maybe they were just tired of holding their corners of the picture together. Maybe the cat ate them.

…

Earlier, he'd noticed the group of men gathered on the walkway in front of the store but they were nowhere in sight right now. He'd also noticed their stares as he sat with Kip in the coffee shop. He tried to mark it down as another bout of unfounded paranoia but as the old saying goes: 'Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean there's no one out to get you'. Anyway, they aren't here now.

The small hardware store seems to carry pretty much whatever one would require for simple home repair along with a few other things for more advanced projects. Looking across the store to the far wall, he spots a display of hand tools.

The store is compact and a little claustrophobic in its layout because of the need to cram as much as possible into a small space. The aisles are fairly narrow. Rounding one of them which had an endcap of aluminum cookware, he nearly collides with a burly local whose abundant head of long wavy hair took up nearly as much space as he did.

"Sorry" he said politely, moving aside to let the guy pass.

"Hey, watch it, haole" growled the youth who looked to be about eighteen or so.

"Sorry." repeated Steve in a tighter voice.

"Fucking haoles." muttered the beefy local who brushed roughly past him and went out the door in a huff.

Steve just blinked after him. It wasn't worth the effort to do anything about it. He'd heard the word before. Depending on how it was said, it could be just an innocuous descriptive term or a thoroughly derogatory one. Growing up on the islands, he'd heard it both ways.

Technically, he wasn't even a haole but kama **'** aina **–** someone who was born in Hawaii. But the color of his skin seemed to be the determining factor for a few here. It was just another thing that seemed to mark him as an outsider. _Someone who doesn't belong._

Sometimes, the laid back attitude of the island's population was tinged with an 'I was here first' attitude. The colonized still resented the colonizers. Steve understood it but also knew that his partner in particular was a target of those who held that view. It doesn't help that Danny stubbornly refuses to adapt to the culture but it still isn't right to take it out on one who tried so very hard to protect the island's inhabitants no matter their ethnicity.

Snorting in dismissal, he goes back to his original mission – finding the small Phillips-head screwdriver he needs in the assortment that hangs on peg hooks on the back wall. Grabbing the one he wanted, he brought it to the register to pay the dollar-seventy-nine plus tax. Mental calculation told him he had about fifty dollars left in his pocket. His original two-seventy-five had diminished fairly quickly. He had no idea what to do once it was gone. Find a job? What kind of work was he qualified to do? For all of his adult life he'd been a warrior, a trained killer. It's what he's good at. Not much call for that in civilian life.

"Hey, brah, you okay?"

Startled, he looked up into the concerned brown eyes of the man behind the counter.  Considering the size of the town and the store itself, he’s probably the owner or a relative of the owner.

"Uhh, yeah." He said once again embarrassed by a mental lapse. He'd zoned out again. _Dammit_.

Declining the offer of a bag for his purchase, he thanked the clerk, took his change and receipt, and dropped the screwdriver into his jacket pocket.

Stepping out onto the muddy street, he was about to cross it when a harsh voice stopped him.

"Hey, haole!"

He slowly turned toward it. There, a few feet away, was the big guy with whom he'd almost collided minutes earlier . . . and his friends.

"I have a name and it isn't haole." said McGarrett in a low but still even voice.

"Yeah, well it's haole to us and if you know what's good for you, you'll get the hell out of here. This isn't a _tourist_ town." growled the husky local; making the word 'tourist' sound as derogatory as his original term for the SEAL.

"Yeah", said the guy next to him; not quite as large but with a better muscle vs fat ratio. He’s bulked-up in the way of young men with too much time and testosterone. His carbon copy stands silently behind him, a smirk on his face.  The two are obviously twins.

"Just because you're another one of Kip's strays doesn't mean you have any right to stay.", said another of this gang of four; this one shorter and much less bulky. A prominent overbite and a goatee give him the appearance of a sinister rabbit. “You're just another mangy 'iilio she's picked up off the street like those other mongrels.” The kid’s doing his best to appear intimidating but isn’t very successful.  The attitude somehow doesn’t appear to be natural.

"What you smiling at, dog?" demands the beefy guy with poor muscle tone and long hair.  The stranger only blinks back at him, a cold smile slowly appearing on his face.

"I'm smiling," said McGarrett, his voice low and soft and dangerous, "because it's polite to smile when introducing yourself to the guy whose ass you're going to kick."

He hadn't kicked anyone's ass in quite a while. Because there are four of these idiots, they'd be expecting an easy win. Well, they _may_ win but it won't be easy.

The largest of them, Beefy Long-Hair, takes a step forward, chest puffed-out, expecting his quarry to back-up due to his intimidating bulk.

Of course, the SEAL did no such thing.

Beefy then makes the mistake of taking a thick finger to poke McGarrett's chest hard enough to knock him off balance, (if he wasn't trying to push over a concrete pillar).

At that moment, Kip happened to look up from the machine with which she was still vainly fiddling. Out the front window she spies one of the local troublemakers standing chest to chest with McGarrett as though in some sort of simian stand-off.

Then she sees Benji Pakele push his finger at her new friend's chest as the others look on with smug expressions.

"Shit!" she loudly exclaims as she pushes out of her chair and rushes to grab the weapon she keeps by the door.

"Fucking pupule morons!" she mutters as she bursts out onto the wooden walkway. Hopping off it into the muck she splashes across the street, baseball bat in hand.

Without even realizing how it had happened, Beefy, (aka Benji), is now face down on the wet planks of the walk, gasping for breath, his wrist and elbow in searing pain and blood flowing like a river from his nose.  A fierce battle rages above his prone body. He can hear his companion's grunts of effort turning into yelps of pain as the plan to kick some haole ass seems to be quickly falling apart.

The SEAL takes care of the second of the four, one of the heavily muscled youths, by deflecting a hard but ineffective blow with his forearm then kicking out to connect with the guy's knee. There’s a gratifying crunch and howl as the attacker goes down.

Two down, two to go.

"You are dead 'iilio!" snarled the downed thug’s twin. Speed belying his bulk, he manages to duck under Steve's swing to deliver a quick punch to the side of his head; powerful enough to momentarily make vision blur.  The muscled youth then takes the moment to grab one of the SEAL's arms and attempts to twist it behind him like he’d seen it done in the movies.

Though rapidly tiring, Steve is about to break free with a hip check that would have had his captor catapulting over his shoulder. His plan is thwarted when. suddenly, there are other rough hands on him. This new thug succeeds in pinning back his other arm.

_A fifth punk? Okay, he could do this . . . right?_

In front of them, the kid with the overbite smiles like a . . . well . . . evil rabbit, and drawing his arm fully back, lets loose a punch that connects squarely with the SEAL's solar plexus. It knocks the wind out of him with an explosive exhalation and would have doubled him forward if not for the two holding his arms. Rabbit changed places with the new guy whose nearly mahogany skin gleams through his closely shorn do.  This new thug looks deadly determined.

An iron fist lands on his ribs and he hears rather than feels a dull snap. Still dazed from the blow to the side of his head he slumps backward.  He plans on using the ones holding his arms to brace himself, (as soon as he catches his breath), so he can kick-out at the punk using him as a punching bag but, suddenly, there’s a change in plans.

Through the blood pounding in his ears and the sound of male voices, he hears a definitely female voice – a really pissed one.

"You pupule bastards!"

"Hey! Kip! No!" squawked Rabbit as the Louisville slugger comes crashing down on his arm. "Ouch dammit!"

"Let him go or you're all dog meat!!"

"Kip, get outta here!" yells one of the Waiwaiole brothers who still roughly grips his sagging captive's arm; ignoring his unfortunate sibling howling in agony on the walkway. "It's none of your business old woman!"

"Old woman, huh! I'll show you old woman!" and the bat once again finds its target; this time the head of Jimmy Waiwaiole.

Steve feels one of his arms freed and he sags forward still unable to catch his breath. Dark spots threaten to merge into the blackness at the edge of his vision.

The guy who’d been punching him delivers one last blow to the side of his captive's face before Kip's bat once again finds its mark. The punk screeches in pain as the heavy wooden club connects with his collar bone.

"I - SAID - LET - HIM - GO!" hears McGarrett just before the dancing black spots finally join into one and the world goes dark.

 


	21. Kama'aina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finally lands in what may be a safe place but things can change so quickly.

 

_He felt hands on him._

_They're going through his pockets. He tried to hold still and not give any indication he was awake. He heard voices but couldn't make out what they were saying. The cave floor was damp; the iciness of it seeped into him and he shivered._

_He heard a male voice say, "If he doesn't want to tell us who he is, maybe we can find some I.D. Uh oh, he's waking up."_

_Was that English or Dari? He understood it but in what language was it spoken? His head felt heavy and dense, filled with soggy cotton. It had to be 'them'. It had to be his captors looking for whatever information would be useful to them._

_Where were the women and children? He couldn't hear the babies crying anymore. He hoped they'd only been herded elsewhere with their mothers but maybe they were all gone now. Maybe they were dead too._

_They knew he wouldn't tell them anything. They'd certainly beat him enough to know he wasn't going to give-up any information. Were they planning some other kind of torture? He had nothing else on him. They'd already taken his weapons and his watch. There was nothing else. What do they want?_

_Gathering himself without trying to be obvious about it, he got ready to fight them off. He knew it would surely be futile but he'd try again. The last few times had only gotten him beat to a pulp but he had to try._

 " _Hey!" someone yelled as he opened his eyes trying to focus on the blurry forms bent over him. Lurching violently upward, he struck out at the shadowy outlines.  His weak, uncoordinated flailing connected with someone's face. He thought he heard someone yelling for him to stop._

_He can’t stop, he has to escape. Hands came at him again, pinning him down as he struggled with all his might until it once again became dark and quiet without the sound of children._

….

 

Danny didn't know whether to be hopeful or not. The guy in the pawnshop had also identified the image displayed on Danny's phone as their wayward SEAL. They'd established that Steve had spent some time in this neighborhood. It was a start.

"He looked pretty rugged brah." said Louie Lo, the pony-tailed clerk at Island Pawn. "I thought he was just another one of those poor guys who'd just come back from deployment and had partied a little too hard."

Danny's lips thinned as he listened. The watch lay in front of them on the counter. It was definitely Steve's.  He seen it often enough and even remembered when his friend had gotten the expensive timepiece. It had arrived at the office via FedEx in a brown cardboard box and when the box was opened, there was a smaller beautifully wrapped package inside.

Catherine hadn't been able to get leave that year for Christmas and her 'not my boyfriend' had been depressed about spending the holidays alone with nothing much to do. He told Danny that in the past, when he hadn't been on deployment, he usually volunteered for duty during the holidays. It freed up others who had families with which to celebrate.

To Danny, even paperwork was preferable to sitting and staring at four walls with only inane reruns of Christmas 'specials' on television. If he saw that stupid animated Rudolph again, he was going to shoot the fucking thing. He was stuck on the island without his daughter because she was spending Christmas with Rachel and her family in England. Steve had become the rock that Danny had clung to in his misery. He didn't even have the money to get back to Jersey for the holidays and wouldn't accept his friend's offer of a loan.

It hadn't taken much for Danny and the cousins to cajole their leader into tearing off ribbon and paper.  Steve had too easily been talked into opening the beautifully wrapped gift despite saying he'd rather wait until Cath could see him open it when she finally got here after the New Year.  

Danny always thought it funny that his BAMF partner displayed almost childlike delight when presented with gifts - no matter what they were. At the time, he hadn't realized that maybe gifts may have been few and far between for the one who’d been sent away from home at such a young age. When Steve had put the watch on his wrist for the first time, there’d been no hiding the goofy grin.

"How much did you give him for it?" asked the detective of the clerk waiting expectantly before  him.

"As much as I'm allowed. The formula worked out to two-seventy five I was sorry I couldn't give him more."

Danny warred with himself. He could _wrongly_ declare the expensive watch 'evidence' and confiscate it until Steve came back. He knew what it had meant to his friend and was disturbed that Steve had chosen to sell it. It indicated how desperate he is or how close to doing something 'stupid' as Dr. Esquivel had put it. Frankly, it frightened the crap out of the Jersey detective.

The price tag attached to the band read five-hundred-ninety five dollars plus tax. It may as well have been five hundred ninety-five million.

"Could you just hold it here for a while?" he finally asked the clerk.

"I'm sorry brah, I can't do that. I mean I would if I could but as soon as the boss heard what I'd done, he'd just kick my ass and put it back in the window. He'd be yelling about how 'A pawnshop isn't a charity, Louie'," said the clerk, making air quotes around the phrase and lowering his voice into what was probably an imitation of the unseen boss. "Believe me; I've been through it before and I still need this job."

The clerk looked sincerely distressed about it then brightened saying, "I can give you a kama'aina discount if that will help. That's ten-percent off. You live here right?"

"Yeah, but what's a kama'aina?" asked the blonde detective. He'd seen it posted in a few shops but no one had ever offered it to him before.

Kono spoke up. "That's a discount for natives of Hawaii or even just current residents. I always ask if they have one when I buy something."

"Why am I only finding out about this now?" he asked half to himself.

…..

 

"Hey, Rain Man? Wake up boy. We have to get you home before the cops show up."

_Cops? Why were cops coming here?_ There were other words too but not addressed to him.

"That's what you get for going through his pockets."

"I was doing it for you, not me! He could be another Charles Manson for all you know!"

"If he doesn't want us to know his name, that's fine. Just leave it be. Just don't touch him again until he's conscious. It's how Joey used to wake up too. You're lucky. Malu got his nose busted once."

_Kip? What was she doing in this cave?_

"Rain Man!" You have to wake up now! Wake up dammit!"

He slowly blinked open his eyes and found two very worried looking people staring down at him. One of them was holding a bloody tissue under one nostril.

"What happened?" he croaked out, recognizing his breakfast companion and the hardware store clerk he'd seen earlier.

"You trashed some really stupid guys." said the clerk; voice sounding muffled behind the wad of Kleenex.

"Stupid guys?" he repeated in confusion. His face hurt. His chest hurt. _What the hell . . ._ ?"

Hands reached down for him and this time he didn't fight them. They tugged him to his feet where he swayed and wobbled as the ground refused to stand still under him. His wary observers gingerly took an arm on each side to steady him.

"We have to get the hell out of here before the cops, err make that 'the cop' shows up." warned Kip.

"Don't worry, we don't actually have to run or anything, brah" said the clerk, stuffing the tissue into his pocket; his nose apparently no longer bleeding. "He's as old and fat as that dog of Kip's. It will take a while for him to get his butt in gear and get here but I wouldn't wait too long 'cause he's probably as mean as that 'ilio too."

He heard the old woman say, "Oh, shut it Howard. You'd be mean too if you were treated the way that dog had been - though I don't know what Sargent Hakoda's problem is. Maybe he was just born that way."

"I always thought maybe it was 'cause he probably wore his bibidees too tight."

"Come on Rain Man,” said Kip to the still woozy new friend, “Maybe those marbles in your head have stopped rolling around enough for us to get to my place. It's not too far."

With both people supporting him, they walked/staggered up the muddy street and turned left onto the dirt road that ran up the hillside just outside of town. It was true, it wasn't too far but under the circumstances, it may as well have been a ten mile hike. After only a little way, he was wheezing as though he'd run a marathon.

By the time they arrived at a small house on top of a hill behind a bigger hill that hid it from view of town, he was completely winded. His head and chest ached unmercifully and the dizziness threatened to roil his stomach enough for it to give up the recently ingested pancakes.

With her ample backside, Kip pushed open the door. The trio staggered into the small living room and across it through the archway into the kitchen.

"Can't go any farther, sorry. Gotta res’ . . . for a . . . minute." he gasped as the spots once again began to dance around in his vision and he sagged toward the floor.

"It's okay, boy, we'll just set you down right here for now." She took a chair and pushed it behind his knees and he collapsed into it; leaning forward to place his head on the kitchen table half covered with a giant puzzle of puppies and kittens in a big wicker basket.

"Howard, you'd better get back to the store before those kolohes realize you're not there and rob you blind."

"I don't really think they're in any shape to rob anyone right now. You sure you're okay with this guy?" asked Howard, concern for Kip showing on his lined brown face.

"Yeah, don't worry. Ua Kane and I are old friends." she assured him.

He looked at her with doubt but reluctantly went toward the door. "Call me if there's any trouble, Kip."

"I think 'trouble' already got its ass kicked today." she smiled back at him, not hiding the fondness in her expression. "Just go Howard . . . and remember to put some ice on your nose!"

"I'm sorry Kip. I didn't mean for you to get involved in this mess." she heard McGarrett's muffled voice from where he'd placed his head on arms folded on the table in front of him. He was still too dizzy to look up.  "Is Howard okay? Am I the one who gave him the nosebleed? I'm sorry, it's just sometimes I'm . . . I’m confused about things."

"No worries, boy. Howard's tougher than he looks and, besides, those little assholes had it coming. I'm just glad I could help you give 'em what they deserved. They've caused enough trouble around here. Until that fifth asshole joined in, you were doing a pretty good job against Benji, Rabbit, and Jimmy Waiwaiola. You'd already wrecked his brother Timmy."

She went to the sink to get a large pot and fill it with warm water then to the bathroom to get some antiseptic, gauze and tape.

Returning to the table and her battered friend she said, "Here, let me look at your face."

She took his chin in her hand to raise his head and examined the bloody gash on his cheekbone. There was a dark bruise forming beneath it and another on his temple. Muttering oaths to herself, she gently cleaned it, trying to wash away the embedded dirt from the walkway he'd crashed onto.  Her patient didn't make a sound or even wince. Eyes closed, long lashes fanned out on pale cheeks. It made him look so much younger than he'd first appeared. _So, so familiar . . ._ she thought for the umpteenth time.

"Where else does it hurt?" she asked, knowing he probably had worse injuries than were apparent.

"I'm okay."

"I didn't ask you if you were okay, boy. I asked you where else you're hurt." she said in a stern, no-nonsense voice.

"Are you always this pushy?" he smiled with his eyes still closed. "You remind me of someone I know."

"I'm the scourge of man and beast around here. They all know I mean business. Just ask those idiot goats." she smiled.

 "I bet you are." He smiled back, eyes still closed. Then knitting his brow he asked, "Uhh, do you mean real goats or is that another name for those lolo punks?"

"No distractions boy. I asked you what else hurts." she admonished, thinking _, He’s just trying to distract me or he has a case of ADD. There's gotta be more to his injuries._

"Sorry, uhh chest and ribs." he admitted.

“I’m sorry we didn’t do more damage to those hupos.” muttered Kip as she dabbed at the blood that once again began to flow from the now cleaner gash on her new friend’s cheekbone.

Something needed to be done about the group of troublemakers that had been plaguing the town for over a year. Benji Pakele, and his minions Apela Opunue, and Jimmy and Timmy Waiwaiola are physically, if not mentally, strong and hadn’t hesitated to use that strength to push people around. The group’s newest member, that buck-toothed kid everyone called Rabbit, was on the brink of becoming as problematic as the others and may already have crossed over the line. The youths were the reason people had begun to lock their doors. Belongings had begun to mysteriously disappear and Kip had noticed the new shoes, clothing and electronics they all suddenly seemed to sport.

She felt along his ribs and wasn't surprised when he flinched as she got about halfway down his left side but he still didn't make a sound. "You got at least one busted rib." she announced. "Not much we can do for that but maybe use an Ace bandage to wrap them up. "That alright with you?"

"Yeah, fine. I'm really sorry to put you through . . . "

"Shut up." she ordered. "I don't want to hear that again."

"Okay." he meekly replied.

"Good boy." she smiled, looking at his bruised face. He hadn't opened his eyes during the entire process. She figured he maybe had a concussion that made opening them result in dizziness. _He looks so familiar and he seems to know the language too well to be just a random haole,_ she thought again as she began uncapping the tube of antibacterial ointment she usually used on the rabbit. It was like there’s a memory lurking in her brain just waiting to make itself known.

"I'm going to get the bandage for your ribs and some tea and aspirin and then you're going to lay down." she ordered. Tonight she'd have to watch him and wake him every few hours.

"Kip, really, you don't have to babysit me. I'm good."

"My ass!" she replied "Just shut up and accept that you've just been beat to shit and that you're not going anywhere. Remember, I still have that bat."

"Yes ma'am."

"Good boy."

….

 

He felt someone staring at him. He knew he was lying on a bed this time but not where that bed may be. He tried to move and it made his ribs hurt unmercifully but he bit back a groan. He’s not gonna make any noise until he figures out where he is.

Turning his head, he opened his eyes and saw a green eye, just one, staring unblinkingly at him. Startled him into sitting up he instantly regretted it. The room spun and it felt as though a mule, a very large and angry one, had kicked him in the ribs.

"Shit!" he groaned as he tried to get his eyes to focus again, hoping the disturbance in his vision wouldn't set off any nausea. Puking right now would really, really hurt.

"You okay in there?" he heard Kip's voice from the open doorway. _Oh yeah, this was her house, her bed._

"Uhh, yeah, I think." He called back, voice hoarse, sounding rough and foreign to his ears.

"Don't let Jack bother you. He just likes to stare at stuff. You're just a new thing to stare at."

Jack, he assumed was the big ginger cat that sat on the pillow next to where his head had been. Its one eye examined him carefully, tail twitching in irritation at the abrupt movement of his current object of fascination.

"Does he bite?" asked McGarrett, not yet wanting to risk touching the big one-eyed tomcat.

"Not unless you bite him first. He's too lazy." said Kip from the kitchen, the sound of pots and pans adding background to her voice.

He sat still for another moment as the rocking ocean of his vision seemed to subside. Cautiously, he swung his legs to the floor and was surprised to find himself dressed in pajamas. He didn't remember getting undressed . . . oh crap.

The big cat's unblinking stare was creeping him out. He could feel it watching from behind him. The feline named Jack raptly studied the man who tried to stand and lost his balance to plop gracelessly back onto the mattress. The animal's unsettling focus only gave the SEAL more initiative to get out of bed and find out what had happened since he'd been asleep/unconscious.

The clock on the bed stand read four-thirty-five and he could see through the gap in the half-opened curtains that the sun was at a low angle. That meant that he'd been asleep for at least five or six hours. He didn't remember dreaming. That was strange. Any time he'd fallen asleep for longer than a couple of hours, the nightmares would wake him.

The cat continued to stare.

Able to stand on his second try, he moved a little unsteadily into the kitchen. Kip looked up from a steaming pot on the stove and smiled a greeting. The steam from the bubbling pot had made her thick hair frizz up and mass on her head like a fluffy grey cloud. If it weren't for the color, she'd actually appear a lot younger. Her face was smooth and nearly unlined and her dark eyes were bright with what could best be described as mischief.

"So, Ua Kane, I guess that tea helped?" she grinned, "You've been asleep for about five hours. I woke you a couple of times to make sure you weren't in a coma or anything but you just mumbled something and went back to sleep."

"I don't remember that or even drinking any tea." he said unsurely, "What kind of tea was it?"

"A little of this and a little of that. All stuff you can find growing on the island. My mother used to give it to us kids to quiet us down when we got too rambunctious for her. I guess drugging your kids is illegal these days but it didn't seem to hurt us any. My brothers have actually stopped twitching and drooling now."

He blinked at her open mouthed for a moment before realizing she was pulling his leg. He smiled back at her shaking his head then regretting it when the room began to spin again and he grabbed for the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

"Sit down Rain Man before you kiss the floor. Scrawny as you are, you're still too big for me to drag you back to the bed. Don't make an old lady work that hard. It's not polite."

"Rebellion, huh?"

"Bet your ass."

Suddenly, from outside came a chorus of barks and bleats and honks. It sounded as though Noah's ark had disembarked in the front yard.

"Shit." exclaimed Kip, "I bet that's the cop."

Steve looked alarmed and his eyes darted toward the back door. No way was he spending any more time locked up somewhere.

Kip turned her head toward the front door and when she turned back again to tell Steve not to worry, he was gone.


	22. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though he's found a refuge, Steve still struggles to escape his demons while his team continues their search for their lost friend.

 

His bare feet flew over the rough ground behind the house. No way is he going to be sent back to be locked up. They could beat him and drug him all they want but he'd made a vow to himself.  He isn't going to be held prisoner again, not ever, not by anyone.

Reaching a rise behind the house covered by a thick grove of trees, he had to stop to catch his breath. It sounded loud and harsh in the quiet. Birds had stopped chirping and calling as the stranger crashed through the thick foliage.

Taking cover behind the gnarled trunk of a big banyan tree, he watched and waited. He knew he may be crazy but he wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to get far with broken ribs. He had no gear or anything to aid in his escape and he’s wearing only the pajama bottoms in which he'd awoken.

The adrenaline fueled flight had taken a lot out of him. Maybe he would feel better after he rested a moment. Reacting to the mad dash up the hill and rapid depletion of energy, his muscles trembled as he slid to the soggy ground. That mule was once again battering his side spikes of pain extending into his chest with every too rapid beat of his heart.  He strained to catch his breath. _Maybe if I just sit down for a while._

The sun had begun its descent toward the horizon as the first hints of peaches and pinks stained the sky. The rain clouds that had begun to recede still hovered around the edges of the blue ceiling and were starting to glow like Chinese lanterns as their vaporous puffs caught the light. He shivered.

...........

Danny had just gotten off the phone with Esquivel.  He’d told the shrink that they hadn't yet found Steve. He told of the watch and where they’d found it and of how much it meant to his partner. There’d been a softly murmured oath on the other end of the call.

_Esquivel is really worried_ , thought the detective. _Well, he can join the club._

There'd been no hits from Kamekona's contacts and no news or sightings from the cousins broad network of relatives. In desperation, Danny had even contacted a SEAL friend of Steve's to see if he'd heard from him lately. Danny had met him while working on a case a while back and the friend had provided some needed information. He didn't tell him what was going on with Steve but from the SEAL's tone, he knew the man knew.

Danny also knew it would go no farther. Even more than cops, SEALs took care of their brothers. Danny got the promise he would be contacted if Steve surfaced but only to reassure him that Steve was okay and being taken care of. If his brother-in-arms didn't want to be found, that would be the only information he'd pass along. Danny reluctantly agreed. It was better than nothing.

Denning was beginning to become suspicious. Danny had put him off several times, saying Steve had gone to spend some time with his sister in Los Angeles while he recuperated from his injuries. The guy was certainly sharp enough to know something wasn't kosher but he respected Steve, so for the moment, he'd let it go. Five-0 had 'made do' before without their fearless leader when he'd disappeared on one of his mysterious assignments. Things still got done, just a little slower and with fewer explosions but they missed his nearly indefatigable energy and his willingness to use 'think outside the box' solutions. They wanted him back. They _needed_ him back.

...........

Sergeant Mario Hakoda hefted his considerable bulk out of the Jeep and immediately stepped into an ankle deep mud puddle. Swearing loudly as the gooey muck sucked at his shoe when he pulled it out of the puddle and crossed the yard toward the front door of the cottage.

_Damn stupid animals_ he thought as a dog barked furiously while a small flock of geese hissed and honked at his advance into their soggy territory. The geese flapped indignantly as he shooed them away but the dog wouldn't retreat. It was that old grizzled mongrel Kip had rescued before he'd almost shot it that day in town. He remembered the incident as though it had happened yesterday.

Deep down, he really hadn't wanted to kill the dog. Apparently it finally had enough of being chained and beaten on a regular basis and had decided to do something about it. There'd been a frantic call from his owner who was trapped in his shack of an office that squatted in the middle of the fenced-in yard. The dog had somehow gotten loose and waited outside its door take a chunk out of the abusive owner's ass.

Hakoda had just pulled his revolver out of its holster when Kekipi Maluhia came rushing up to stop him from putting an end to the dog's crusade for revenge. He knew the woman had been trying to get the owner to give up his possession of the poor dog for quite some time. She'd done this sort of thing before and a large menagerie of rescued, broken, and damaged animals already awaited her at home.

"No!" she yelled, "Don't shoot! I'll get him to stop!"

"Kip" he warned, "Get out of the way. That dog's lost it. There's no way to keep him from mauling Freddie without shooting him!"

"I can do it, just give me a minute!" said the woman as she rushed forward.

Freddie Manuku looked about to wet his pants. His panicked face peered out of the grimy window of the shack.

Without waiting to gain permission from cop, owner, or animal, Kip approached the enraged canine. Speaking softly she coaxed the growling mutt to back off ever so slightly. It still growled menacingly toward the shack as she slowly approached. A baloney sandwich was offered up by someone in the small crowd gathered outside the fence. Kip caught it as it was thrown over the fence. She broke it into pieces and left a trail away from the object of the dog's ire. Still growling, the animal finally gave up his quest and gave into his hunger. As it gobbled up the offering, Kip produced a rope and carefully looped it through the collar still fastened around its scrawny neck. A muffled cheer came from the small gathering as the dog allowed itself to be led away after only a mild tug on the rope. The throng parted widely to give woman and dog enough room to pass.

Freddie came out of his shack then and called to her, "You can keep him Kip! I don't want him no more!"

"Freddie, you are a flaming asshole!" she yelled back as she led the dog down the street. Hakoda just shook his head and holstered his weapon. That was the most excitement he'd had in ages.

Shaking off the memory, he went back to the task at hand. He was here now to find out what had gone on in town earlier today. The parents of the Waiwaiola brothers had filed a complaint that their 'innocent' sons had been viciously attacked in front of the hardware store by a stranger. He'd already asked Howard about it and either the brothers hadn't told mommy and daddy the whole truth or in their report the aggravated couple had avoided the fact that their offspring had been bested by one skinny guy and an old lady with a bat.

He laughed to himself. As far as he was concerned, the Waiwaiola brothers and the group they hung with were a waste of oxygen.  He didn't know about the stranger but he knew Kip was a tough old thing. He'd had several run-ins with her over the years. The woman was fearless, both about expressing her opinions and pretty much everything else.

Reaching her door as the chorus of squawking, barking and honking continued to announce his presence, he pounded on it with a flat hand.

"Kip! Open up! We have to talk."

He heard some frantic rustling around before the door was abruptly yanked open.

"Hey, Mario. The bakery run out of donuts? Why you here?"

He ignored her remark and brushed past her into the house. There didn't seem to be anything amiss as he entered. There was no skinny haole in sight.

"I think you need to tell me what went on in front of Howard's store earlier today, Ms. Maluhia." he began sternly. He stood in what he thought was an authoritative posture; both hands resting at the sides of the thick belt around his even thicker waist.

"Oh, you mean when that pack of hyenas decided to beat up that lone haole?" she sweetly replied, (too sweetly).

"You know what I'm asking." he said in a no-nonsense manner.  But, from past experience with Kekipi Meluhia, he knew it didn't matter what tone of voice he used. It would make no difference to the fierce woman.

"Look, Mario. All I know is that Benji Pakele, Jimmy and Timmy Waiwaiola, Keanu the kid who looks like a rabbit and one other inbred idiot decided to beat up a friend of mine."

"What did he do to provoke them?"

"Other than not being from around here, not a damned thing. We had breakfast at the cate then he went to get a screwdriver so he could fix my sewing machine for me. They jumped him on the way out of the store."

"What's his name?"

"Never found out." she said, looking back at him with eyes that dared him to dispute her.

"He's your friend, he ate breakfast with you and then he was going to repair your sewing machine and you don't know his name?"

"I just call him Ua Kane." she shrugged.

"Great" he replied with a tired sigh. "I have to list the suspect as Rain Man in my report."  Taking off his cap, he plopped heavily into one of the kitchen chairs. "Got any coffee?" he asked.

.........

It’s raining again. The sound of it splatting on the broad leaves above him would have been pleasant if it hadn't chilled him until his teeth chattered uncontrollably.  He'd seen the glow of headlights as what had to be a 4-wheel drive vehicle made its way back toward town on the now mud-choked road.

It had been over two hours since he'd made his quick exit from the little wooden house. He didn't have a watch but he was good at judging the passage of time – at least when he managed to stay in the here and now. Otherwise, it could have been two hours or two days.

The vehicle's headlamps disappeared around the base of the hill and he saw the yellow glow of light as the back door of the cottage was opened. It was pitch dark behind the house but he spied a flashlight beam cutting into the blackness. Its bright bluish L.E.D. illumination made the raindrops look like glass rods slanting toward the ground.

Kip's voice echoed up the rise. "Hey! Rain Main! It's safe to come back now!" At the sound of her voice a dog began barking from somewhere near her. "Ua Kane!” she called again, “Come out! Come back to the house. It's safe now!"

He shivered again.

.........

"So, we know he's got a little money." said Danny to Kono and Chin as they stood around the smart table, looking up at a map of the city displayed on the large screen hanging high on the opposite wall.

"Two-seventy-five isn't going to go very far, Danny. That's a couple nights at a fleabag like the Island Breeze and maybe lunch and a ferry ticket to Molokai or Maui." spoke Chin, his normally smooth brow furrowed as he looked across the table at his blonde, weary looking, teammate.

"Brah" announced Kono; her raspy voice indicating exhaustion as well, "We've already looked at hours and hours of tape and watched every nearly friggin' tourist on the island get on and off those ferries. Steve never got on one of them. He has to still be on Oahu somewhere."

"Frankly, I'm surprised he even stuck around in town as long as he did. Steve knows there are way too many people who may recognize him in Honolulu. " said Danny running his hands through his hair for what seemed the thousandth time since they'd been standing there trying to puzzle out where their friend had gone.

"Yeah, but nobody knows we're even looking for him except the couple people we've told." said Kono.

"We also told them to keep it on the DL." added Chin.

"Well, I still think that if he stuck this close maybe, deep-down, he wanted us to find him." said Danny, hoping he didn't just sound wishful.

No one had an answer for that, they only looked sadly across the table at each other.

"Maybe we just missed him on the ferry surveillance tapes." posed Kono as she chewed her thumbnail. They'd recruited Kamekona, Max and even Charlie Fong to watch the tapes until eyes practically bled. They were people who wouldn't ask further questions when told there'd be no answers other than that they were trying to spot McGarrett leaving the island.

Actually, unbeknownst to them, Kamekona had a pretty good idea already as to what was going on with the tall man. It sadly reminded the entrepreneur of his cousin Lihau who’d dropped off the face of the earth not too long after he'd come back from Iraq. A couple years after his disappearance, his family learned that he'd been killed in a bar fight in L.A.  He'd pulled a knife on someone and the cops had been called. The police had shot him when he'd charged at them with the blade in his hand. Judged a justifiable shooting, his devastated parents had suspected that it was actually 'suicide by cop', the term used when someone did something to intentionally get themselves killed by peace officers. It was a tragedy - not only for the deceased and his family; but for the officers who had to kill him.

Lihau had always been mild-mannered and temperate in nature but Iraq had changed him. So, sadly, Kamekona knew very well what could be happening with the SEAL.

"Danny," began Kono, "What if he hired a private boat. You know, someone who could take him to one of the other islands?"

"Yeah, brah." agreed Chin, "He's got a lotta contacts on the island that we don't even know about. Maybe he connected with one of them."

Danny mulled it over, tiredly rubbing his chin before sighing, "It's a possibility but with the way he was feeling, I don't think he'd even want to talk to anybody he knew from before."

Two sets of eyes looked at him questioningly.

"You know . . . before he came back this time . . . before whatever shit rained down on him that made him want to disappear." he said, voice trailing off and becoming nearly inaudible by the end of the sentence.

Seeing Danny's hesitation to provide anything further, Chin spoke up, "I think the private boat angle is the only thing we've got to work with. Maybe he gave a few dollars to a tour guide or fisherman to take him across the channel to one of the other islands. We'd better start making the rounds again to see if somebody recognizes his picture."

"Cuz" said Kono, brow creased in earnestness, "Even _I_ would have had a hard time recognizing Steve right now. He looked so bad last time we saw him."

Chin nodded in silent agreement. The last time they'd seen Steve was when they'd stopped by his place unannounced. Danny had opened the door to let them in. He'd been staying with Steve the past week; making sure his friend took his meds, got some rest and kept all of his doctor's appointments.

"Hey Danny! Thought we'd bring by some of your 'soul food' and some of Auntie Kalena’s haupia for Steve. He could probably use the calories, huh?" smiled Chin.

" _He_ sure can, not sure about me though." greeted Danny, his mouth already watering at the smell of pastrami wafting from the bag imprinted with the name of his favorite deli.

Lowering his voice, Chin asked, "How's our friend?"

"Not so good." answered Danny truthfully; too tired to sugar-coat his answer. "He won't eat much and he spends most of his time either in the ocean or staring at it. He'll only go swimming at dawn or dusk. It's like he doesn't want to be in the sun. That's  _really_ not like him.

He neglected to mention that his friend hadn't had much sleep either. He either woke with nightmares or woke with the need to throw up whatever he'd eaten. Nausea was one of the possible side-effects of Prazosin and it was one that Steve experienced big time.  The drug couldn't be taken every night but it was the only medication that helped quell the disturbing dreams. On the nights he didn't take it, Steve would wake screaming until he was hoarse.

The cousins looked at each other before Kono asked hopefully, "Do you think he'll talk to us?"

"You can try." replied Danny. "He's not really talking to me much. I'm really worried about the big guy to be honest." That was as much as he felt comfortable telling them. In a moment, they'd see for themselves how their friend was doing.

They tramped through the house toward the lanai, stopping to get some glasses and a pitcher of iced tea on the way.

"Hey boss." greeted Kono as they stepped out onto the wooden deck where Steve sat wearing sunglasses, staring out at the water.  He slowly turned his head toward them; a tentative smile appearing on a markedly thin face.

His hair was actually shaggy. It curled haphazardly over the collar of the long sleeved shirt he wore. The shirt was buttoned up to the neck and the sleeves were fastened at the cuffs.  This was unusual for the man Danny regularly accused of exhibitionism.

She couldn't remember ever seeing Steve wear a shirt that way when he was at home or even any actual shirt for that matter.  His usual attire was board shorts and a wife-beater.  At the office he'd always left his shirts unbuttoned over his usual T-shirt.  Due to Hawaii's heat and humidity, even Danny had lost the habit of wearing an extra layer under his button-down dress shirts.

Steve was unshaven and when he tilted up his sunglasses to put them on top of his head, his eyes looked sunken. They also looked . . . empty.

Kono's smile faltered a little but she quickly recovered. "Hey, Boss!  We brought you some of Auntie Kalena’s haupia. It's been a while since you've had some. I know you always liked it."

He returned her smile but she could tell it was only to be polite. There was nothing behind it. It was like looking at a cardboard cutout of Steve. There was no more animation or warmth to it than the wooden chair in which he sat.

"Howzit brah?" asked Chin as he took a seat next to Steve.

"Fine." was the one word answer.

.........

Kip looked out into the darkness behind her house. She knew he was out there. She could feel him watching. It frightened her that this was so much like Joey had been; running like a feral animal anytime people showed up at her door. The disturbing reaction to visitors could go on for days, sometimes even weeks. Some nights she'd just leave a plate of food out. It would be gone in the morning but she wasn't sure if Joey had eaten it or maybe one of the animals had gotten to it. Eventually, she began putting the plate in the mailbox; calling out to Joey that it was there before going back into the house.

Malu had been devastated that his boy wouldn't talk to him. They'd always been close. Joey loved his dad and would spend as much time with him as possible. It was all different when their only child had come back from Iraq. Everything seemed to go to hell then.

"Rain Man! There's some dinner for you in the mailbox if you want it." she called out to the darkness before pulling her flannel shirt tighter around her body and sighing. She clumped up the steps and turned to take one last look before she pulled open the door and went into the house for the night.

  



	23. Dislocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kip remembers the boy from long ago.

As the two walked purposefully down the dock, the sun once again peeked from behind a bank of clouds. Danny knew it was going to be another of  _ those _ days that alternated rain and steam. God, he hated this place! It couldn't even produce honest weather. It had to mix it up so that your body didn't know if it was coming or going.

They'd been to every friggin' boat marina on the island and spoken to anyone who owned and/or piloted anything from a rowboat to a yacht. No one had identified Steve.

Danny had taken Catherine with him this time. She'd flown into Hickam last night and was already waiting for him first thing this morning when he'd arrived at the palace. When he'd hugged her hello, her body felt tense as a bowstring.

The team had taken pains to regularly update her on the search. Danny had been the one to make the uncomfortable call to inform her that Steve had disappeared. He hadn't said why the man had decided to go on a walkabout or even given her additional information as to why he'd been in the hospital in the first place. That was for Steve to tell her . . . or not. Catherine Rollins is tough and smart and has been in the military for a while. Danny was pretty sure she had an idea as to what was going on with her 'not my boyfriend' and, even if she didn’t, he wouldn't break his promise to Steve to not spill the beans.

Chin and Kono hadn't even come into the office first. They'd gone straight to the northernmost marina on the other side of the island and were working their way south.

Danny glanced at the beautiful brunette striding beside him and wondered again how she and Steve had never acknowledged their obvious commitment to each other. It was a puzzle. They were good together; sort of Mr. and Mrs. Rambo. If they ever decided to, they would undoubtedly produce incredibly attractive if possibly lethal children.

Danny knew for a fact that Steve cared about her in more than the 'friends with benefits' way. The way he smiled when she was around, the way his body seemed to melt into hers during an embrace. Though PDA's were few and far between, one didn't have to be Kreskin to know there was a strong bond between the two. Certainly a stronger one than either would admit to.

The first couple of boats moored along the wooden pier were small ones meant for day trips.  They had no one aboard so they moved to the next. The third one, a proper fishing boat, had a grizzled old guy on it who took a cursory look at the photo and shook his head. Danny made him look at it again. The man rolled his eyes and gave it another glance. "No, I've never seen that guy. Maybe you should ask Mike, he should be back in a couple of minutes. He owns The Alma Rose across the way. He's usually hard up for money what with the repairs on that leaky old tub. He'd take on just about any passenger for a few bucks. But don't tell him I told l you so. He's a cranky old bastard."

Danny thanked him as the old guy abruptly turned his back on them.  _ Mike's _ _ a cranky old bastard _ ? thought Danny, shaking his head.

They busied themselves with a few more stops along the pier. One of the crewmen on another small fishing boat thought maybe Steve looked familiar but couldn't remember where or what day he'd seen the tall man.

Hearing heavy footsteps and a clanking sound, the detective turned to see a grey bearded old guy wearing a stained t-shirt and an equally stained baseball cap board the Alma Rose, a vessel that, to say the least, had seen better days. Danny nodded to Cath and they hurried toward him.

"Hey, you Mike?" he called out.

The bearded guy turned slowly and looked him up and down then did the same with Cath only slower and with much more appreciation.

"Might be. Why do you want to know?" he growled out as he set down the heavy looking burlap sack with one final clank onto the boat’s scarred deck.

"We're Five-0." Danny held up his shield for the old man to get a good look at it. Mike didn't seem to be someone who could be intimidated by much. Maybe the shield would lend some extra gravity to the situation.

The old man looked cursorily at the shield before saying, "And?"

" _ And _ we'd like you to look at a photo for us. Tell us if you've seen this guy around here." said Danny evenly.

Cath pulled open the folder she carried and held the eight-by-ten photo up before the old man's face. In bright sunlight, it was easier to make out the hard copy than an image on the screen of a smartphone. They'd printed several copies of Danny's original snap along with a close-up of Steve's face to give to the other searchers.

The old man smiled at her, showing broken and yellowed teeth as he took the photo from her hand. Turning his cap around on his head so that the bill shaded it, he brought the image close to his face and studied it carefully.

"What'd he do?" he asked abruptly, handing the picture back to Cath.

"He didn't do anything. We just need to find him." she answered with a smile, hoping to allay any worry the man may have about cooperating with cops.

"If he didn't do anything, why are you lookin' for him then?" countered the old man, his leathery, sunbaked forehead crinkling with a questioning frown.

Danny and Cath looked at each other before Cath answered for them. "He's my boyfriend and I need to find him because . . . because . . . I'm pregnant." she blurted out lowering her eyes in feigned embarrassment. Waving to the man who stood beside her she said, "This is Danny, he's my cousin. He's helping me. I've got to get the bastard to marry me . . . you know."

Danny had to hand it to her. The reluctant confession of being 'with child' almost had him believing it. The woman was an award winning actress; at least he hoped that was the case. The thought of a surprise mini-Ninja was enough to make his head spin.

"Darlin', I'm sorry for your, uh, situation but you could do a lot better than  _ that _ guy." said the old man.

Catherine's face started to tense up as though she wanted to smack the old bastard but she held it in and asked in a hurt voice. "Why do you say that? He's a nice guy."

"Well, he may be nice but that guy's on his way to an early grave or the funny farm if you ask me. Somethin's up with him. Why would anyone in their right mind want to cross the channel to Molokai in the middle of the night in this weather? The guy's got a screw loose. Fortunately for him though," he laughed, "So do I. Couldn't turn down the money he gave me to get him there."

"So, you took him to Molokai?" asked Danny, almost vibrating with the news.

"Yup, coupla nights ago. Man, I've been out in rough seas before but this time even I thought I was gonna toss my cookies. That was a rough crossing."

"Where did you drop him off?" asked Catherine

"At Kaunakakai Marina. It's where the smaller fishing boats come in. Don't know where he went from there though."

"Thanks man." called Danny as they turned to hurry back up the pier.

As they walked away, the old guy called out to Cath, "Good luck darlin'. If you don't find your boyfriend, I'm sure there's lotsa nice fellers out there who'd be happy to take on a gal like you . . . even with a bun in the oven. If you can't drag 'im home, come on back here."

"Yeah, I'll be sure and do that." said Cath softly to Danny as she rolled her eyes but deep down she knew she'd keep company with the devil himself if it would help her bring Steve back.

…

The sun was up again and he hadn't dared sleep. Coughing harshly, his chest burned with each wet, wheezy, spasm. Slowly getting to his feet, ignoring the ache of stiff muscles, he bent down to pick up the plate that had rested beside him. Tucking it under one arm, he began to carefully pick his barefoot way back down the hill toward the house.

Though he knew there was no one there but Kip and her animals, he wasn't taking any chances as he cautiously approached the little wooden structure. In the light of day, he'd come to realize that staying out all night in the rain wasn't the brightest idea he'd ever had but, at the time, it seemed the thing to do. Actually, he felt more than stupid that he'd let his fear override his common sense. Sadly, he knew a lot of stuff he'd done since he'd gotten back from the desert hadn't made much sense.

As he descended into the yard behind the house, a rather large dog stood between him and the back porch. The animal growled menacingly and he stopped in his tracks unsure of what to do.

"Nice dog." he said to it in what he hoped was a soothing voice. The dog continued to growl. It was some kind of shepherd mix with scars across its greying muzzle. "Good boy." he said to it, not daring to approach any farther. "Be a good dog and don't bite me okay. There's not much for you to chew on and you don't look like you can run any farther than I can right now."

He continued to speak softly to it for a few minutes and finally, the dog seemed to lose interest in him and with a final snuff turned and hobbled arthritically toward the side of the house.

Reaching the back door, he breathed a sigh of relief that quickly turned into another round of coughing as he wrapped his arms around his ribs and bent forward. He heard the door squeak open and then there were warm hands around his shoulders. He flinched even though he realized it was only Kip.

She said not a word as she pulled him inside and efficiently guided him to a kitchen chair then gently pushed him down onto it. His eyes were tightly closed in pain as his ribs and chest were still fiercely protesting that last round of spastic coughing. He felt a blanket draped around his shoulders and almost sighed at the warmth of it.

"Here" he heard her voice for the first time, "Drink this." A cup of coffee was pressed into his hands. He tried to bring it to his mouth but was shivering so badly he actually needed her help to steady the cup to keep from spilling it. After a couple of welcome swallows, it was okay for her to let go so that he could finish it on his own.

"I fixed up the back room for you. There's a decent bed in there." He detected what seemed sadness in her tone before she continued, "I've been using it for storage since my son moved out. It should be comfortable enough if you don't mind sharing it with lots of incredibly gaudy bolts of cloth and big bags of animal food. I used to keep the food in the shed but the goats figured out how to get into it, the little bastards."

As he opened his eyes, he saw the nearly completed puzzle of the kittens and puppies on the table before him. He had a sinking feeling she'd stayed up most of the night working on it. "Kip, I'm sorry I ran off like that. I just . . . "

"Never mind, I know." she said matter-of-factly, "Let's just get you warm for now. When you've stopped shivering maybe you can eat something, huh? That sandwich I left for you last night wasn’t much."

"Thank you anyway but I'm not really . . . "

She scolded, "You know, some people actually eat at tables and sleep in beds occasionally."

He tried to laugh but the coughing again took hold and seemed to go on forever before ending in a pathetic soggy wheeze.

Taking the nearly empty coffee cup away, she set another cup of something in front of him while ordering, "Drink this, it will help with the cough."

"What is it?" he asked mildly suspicious but intending to drink it anyway. Coughing while having broken ribs was torture.

"Just more herbal stuff from my mom's recipe's but I wouldn't recommend you be in any situation that requires a pee test for a while." she laughed

He only shrugged and downed the bitter tea. He wasn't planning on having to take any sort of test in the near or distant future. Those days were over.

After a few minutes passed he could feel the tightness in his chest ease somewhat. Jack the tomcat jumped onto the chair next to him and commenced to stare again. He was kind of getting used to it. He reached out and stroked the soft, thick fur and the cat began to loudly purr. It was actually kind of nice.

Next, Kip set a steaming bowl in front of him. Whatever it contained smelled really good.

"Baked oatmeal." she announced, "I don't make it often so you lucked out. Looks like you can use those extra calories. I even put some warm cream over it."

"I'm not very hungry Kip, really I'm . . . ."

Ignoring his protest she went on, "Just try it. It's got pineapple and other good things in it. Just a bit then I'll let you sleep, okay?"

Kip, of course, prevailed and he gingerly took a spoonful of the warm pudding-like cereal. It tasted even better than it smelled. He could taste ginger and coconut in it. Despite not being all that hungry, he ate nearly half of what she'd served him before apologetically pushed away the bowl.

"There's some more pajamas there on the bed for you. They're probably too big but that'll just make 'em all the more comfy. Go to sleep Ua Kane. Don't worry, I'll keep watch and wake you if there's need."

He just looked at her gratefully for a moment, trying to find the words to say how much he appreciated her care. Care he knew he didn't deserve.

She just looked back unblinkingly before saying, "Shut up boy. Good night now."

…

Last night, she'd finally figured it out. She knew where she'd seen those long dark lashes and eyes the color of deep ocean. Snapping another piece of the puzzle into place, this one part of a puppy's paw, it had suddenly come to her.

The eyes belonged to a ten-year-old boy. A sweet but somewhat rambunctious boy who'd come to the island with his dad and a couple of others. That morning years ago, for a few dollars, Malu had agreed to show them the way to the falls so they could have a picnic and explore a little. They seemed like nice people. It was unusual for tourists to come to this part of the island. Most of the haoles stayed at one of the two resorts on the other side of it. She'd later learned the two men and their children were actually residents of Oahu and their boys had been born here.

Joey hadn't wanted to go along but his dad had drafted him anyway. He and the boy named Stevie seemed to hit it off well enough. The tall ten-year-old and the short thirteen–year-old were nearly the same height. The other boy whose name she couldn't remember was a whiney sort but the other two put up with him good-naturedly. She waved them off as they trudged up over the ridge to the trail head.

The next time she saw them was a few hours later when she heard piteous crying as the man she remembered as ‘George’ returned carrying his son piggyback as the kid wailed like a banshee; both knees skinned and bleeding.

A couple minutes behind them were Malu and Joey with Stevie with his father. The tall boy was walking slowly and holding his arm carefully.

George and the screaming kid came into the kitchen as Kip automatically began to set out first aid supplies onto the table. She was sort of the de facto medic in the village. There was actually only one doctor on the island and he worked out of one of the resorts on the other side of it. His services were much too expensive for the locals. Kip had learned what her mother had taught her about herbal medicine and just plain common sense practices. She never charged anyone for her care though she did accept donations of kibble or supplies for her menagerie.

"What happened?" she asked George as she began to wash off his son's abraded knees which only made the kid screech louder. His dad tried to shush him before telling her that the boy had tumbled off the trail and had begun to slide down an embankment. He was about to go over the edge into a steep canyon when, before the adults could even react, Stevie had scrambled after him and grabbed on to keep him from sliding further.

They'd finally pulled the kids back up but Stevie had held on so tight that he'd dislocated his elbow and they hadn't realized it until everyone was back on the trail.

She looked up as Joey pushed open the door and the pale boy and his equally pale father walked in with Malu behind them.

"Come here boy and sit down." she ordered.

The dark-haired boy looked first at his dad who nodded his okay and then with quiet trepidation took a seat in front of her. "Let me see your arm, keiki" she said and the boy carefully extended his injured arm toward her as far as he could. With gentle fingers, she carefully examined it. The elbow joint was deformed and beginning to become heated and was obviously out of place. It was also obviously painful but the boy never made a sound.

"When did this happen?" she asked, looking up at the kid's father.

"Just about half an hour ago." he answered, worry creeping into his voice though he tried to hide it from his son.

"Well, it's a new enough injury that it will be okay to pop the joint back into place. I'm pretty sure it's not broken, just dislocated. Others have come to me with injuries like this a few times so I know what it looks like when that happens. I also know that it hurts like a sonofabitch and the longer it's out of joint the worse it's going to hurt to put it back in."

"Is there anything we can do or should we wait until we get back to Oahu?" asked the boy's dad whose name she now recalled was John.

"If you like, I can put it back into place but, like I said, it's going to hurt to do it. The boy has to be sure he wants me to."

Kneeling in front of his son who looked back at him with huge pain-filled eyes but who still hadn't uttered a sound, he asked, "Stevie, you want the lady to fix your arm? You heard what she said, it's going to be a little painful to do that but it will feel better a lot sooner than if we wait until we get back home."

The dark blue eyes turned to look at her solemnly. She could see the kid's wheels turning then the look of resolve. Coming to his decision, the boy gravely nodded yes.

"Malu, heat up some of mama's tea for me, will you? We'll give some to Stevie to relax him a little. We'll give some to the other boy too." she said, trying not to grit her teeth as the brat's wails hadn't yet ceased despite his father's attempt to soothe him.

"It will be easier if he lies down. Just put him on the bed in that room." she directed. John led his son to the bedroom toward which she’d pointed and after taking the kid's shoes off so as not to get the bedspread dirty, sat himself down on it and leaned the boy against him; head cradled against his chest.

"Here, keiki, drink some of this. It doesn't taste all that great but it will make you feel better." The child obediently drank what she handed him, making a face at its bitter taste.

After waiting another five minutes or so, she said, "Okay, Stevie, we'll take care of your arm now."

It didn't take long, just a pull, a quick twist, and a soft popping noise and it was done. The boy still hadn't made a sound other than a shuddery exhalation when it was over. She bandaged up his arm and made a sling for it and they let him sleep for an hour as the tea put him under.

The other boy was now quiet too except for an occasional sniff. While the boys rested and the men relaxed after the near tragic mishap on the trail, (Malu providing some brandy to help them do so), she made everyone lunch. After their meal the men thanked her profusely, gave Malu an extra-large tip, then gathered up their equipment and children.  They left on the afternoon ferry. That's the last she saw of them.

A couple days later, she received a phone call from the local feed store and was told that someone had anonymously paid off what she owed and had ordered several more sacks of animal food to be delivered the next day. To say she was pleasantly surprised was an understatement.

She sighed at the memory. Malu was still with her and Joey was still here too. Things had changed so but, somehow, in some strange way, they remained the same.

She stood at the doorway of the storeroom and looked down at the long-lashed boy from so many years ago. He is still brave.


	24. Only Half Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny and Catherine continue the search while someone else stalks their friend. Steve fools himself into believing he is undamaged.

 

Danny lost no time informing Chin and Kono that Steve had been tracked to Molokai. The cousins were almost happy to hear it because they had several contacts there. It would be hard for their wandering boss to hide among a much smaller and more cohesive population than the one on Oahu.

Now, they only needed to locate him. Simple . . . right?

Having  rendezvoused at H.Q with his teammates, Chin pulled up the map of Molokai to display on the big screen. The marina where Steve had been dropped off was on the southern shore. The island wasn't that big but it had dense rainforest in which to get lost if one had the skills to do so . . . and they knew Steve had those skills in spades.

_ Dammit, Steven, you're not going to make this easy are you,  _ thought Danny, already discouraged by the daunting task of trying to track Steve through a tropical forest because that's surely what his troubled friend's intention was; to lose himself in it. Despite his intense worry, the thought of tramping around in the mud and muck and humidity as they searched for his sorry ass was, well . . . annoying.

Chin could see Danny's already defeated expression and clapping him on the shoulder said, "Don't worry Danny, we'll find him. The island is only ten miles wide and less than forty long. How hard can it be?"

The blonde detective only looked back at him with a 'You've got to be kidding me' face as Chin smiled at him reassuringly.

It was too late to catch a flight today. They'd gear-up and be on the next one out to Molokai in the morning. They were standing around planning their search when Danny's phone buzzed. Reaching into his pocket to pull it out and glancing at the display, he saw the image of a stern, dark face staring back.  _ Shit _ , it was Denning.

"Hello governor, what can we do for you?"  There was no annoyance or trepidation evident in the smoothly delivered greeting.

"About McGarrett . . . ", came the abrupt reply.

…..

He'd been asleep for several hours when the woman came to him this time. As she usually did, she extended her hand to offer him the apple and, as a hundred times before, he'd just begun to reach toward it when the baby screamed.

Jerking upright, sweat running down his neck, the only sound he made was a small startled "No!"

It was nearly dark. Looking frantically around, his heart racing, the image slowly faded until all he could see in the gloom were the bolts of cloth strewn chaotically on the shelves across from the bed. The cat that had been napping next to him jumped down onto the floor to trot out the half-open door toward the kitchen, tail twitching in annoyance.

"Ua Kane?" came Kip's voice from the room beyond, "You okay in there?"

"Yeah", he managed to croak out, "Fine, 'm fine." He ran his hand over his sweaty face and sat up to swing his legs to the floor. The movement triggered ragged coughing and he once again wrapped his arms around his ribs to ride out the pain.

Announced Kip from the other side of the partly open door, "That cough doesn't sound any better. I've got some more tea for you. I'll bring you some.". He heard the sound of a pan being placed back onto the cast iron burner of her old stove.

"Thank you, but I'll come out to get it." he called out, "No need to bring it." He pushed his sweat dampened hair back from his forehead wishing he had a comb. "Besides, it's time to get out of bed, don't you think?"

"Why? You got an appointment somewhere?" she answered.

"Only with you Kip. I don't want you waiting on me."

"Yeah, you're such a burden and all." she snorted.

Actually, he felt just that; a burden. He had to find a way to repay her kindness somehow. Looking around for something to put on over his baggy pajamas, he gave up, realizing his modesty had very likely already been compromised when he'd woken up in pajamas on that first day he'd been here. Padding barefoot into the kitchen, he blinked at the bright yellowish light cast by the outdated incandescent fixture that hung over the table.

"You still look like roadkill boy." she said as she set a heavy stoneware cup of her tea in front of him.

He blinked back at her with a sleepy smile. "I do my best."

"You know, my 'magical powers'," she said, using the term  sardonically , "can only take you so far. If you've got something more serious than a minor respiratory infection, you're gonna have to get your ass to a real doctor."

"No doctor!" he blurted out, nearly spilling his cup as memories of being locked up and drugged rushed into his head with the power of a tsunami.

A little surprised, she soothed, "It's okay boy, I won't force you to go if you don't want to."

He blushed, feeling his face become even warmer than it felt when he'd awoken."Uhh, sorry. Didn't mean to react so strongly."

"I gather that you and doctors don't get along." she said - more a statement than a question, already knowing that prying would get her nowhere. The man was so like Joey had been before he left: overreacting to things that no one else would find threatening, tensing at the slightest sound and running off to hide like a half-wild animal whenever anyone came to visit. Maybe this time the result would be different. She'd do her best.

"I . . . I haven't had very good experiences lately with them, that's all." he stammered.

"Don't worry about it. Last time I had to go to the doctor, the sonofabitch had me spayed." she laughed.

He looked up at her with wide eyes before returning her smile with an unsure one of his own. Hesitating as he searched for something to say, he finally replied, "That couldn't have been very pleasant."

"Let's just say I'm not going to send a Christmas card to that quack. Turned out later it wasn't even necessary but it was too late by then. Glad I at least had the chance to have Joey."

Turning toward the sink to face away from him as she busied herself rinsing out some glass tumblers, she spoke over her shoulder. "Guess that's why the animals. Have to use that mothering instinct somewhere." To her ‘guest, the last sentence sounded so sad and wistful.

"I'm sure your son appreciated having you all to himself." he said, trying his best to come up with something to make the woman feel better. He was so bad at this stuff. People skills were definitely not his forte. With a sudden pang, he realized how much he missed Danny who was so good at this kind of stuff.

"Yeah, I think he did when he was younger but after he came back from Iraq, he didn't hang around long. I'm sure he thought I was smothering him."

"Where did he go?" blurted Steve, forgetting his normal reserve about being too obviously nosy even though Danny regularly accused him of having no boundaries and having to know every minute detail of what was going on in his partner's life.

"Don't really know." she sighed as she began to set the table, "Haven't heard from him in at least five years or so. I keep thinking he'll show up any minute but so far . . ." her voice trailed off and Steve could see her dark eyes beginning to shine with tears.

_ Shit! _ Now he'd made her cry. He didn't know what to say to undo what he'd done.  _ I'm such an ass _ , he chastised himself for his self-perceived faux pas. He really needed Danny.

Suddenly from the front of the house came the sound of furious barking, honking and bleating.

"Doorbell." she announced as she placed a hand on his shoulder, "Stay." she ordered sternly.

Alarmed by the sudden commotion, he fought the urge to flee as his heart rate sped up to nearly hummingbird velocity. He quickly got up from the chair, nearly knocking it over in his haste, and rushed back into the storeroom. He closed the door not quite all the way; leaving a narrow crack from which to peer out. He felt about to hyperventilate; not wanting to bolt once more into the bush bu with body trembling from the frantic need to do so.

…

Danny, once again, couldn't sleep. He was already packed and ready for the trip to Molokai tomorrow morning. After making his nightly call to Gracie, he got himself a beer from the fridge and plopped back onto the fold-out as he tried to distract himself with a ballgame on the sports network. Even though it was the Nets playing the Clippers, he just couldn't get into it. His thoughts continually drifted to his missing partner.  _ Is he okay? Is he eating? Is he able to sleep? _

After the game had ended, he couldn't even remember what the score had been. Besides, he was still pissed the Nets had abandoned New Jersey for Brooklyn. He shouldn't even have been trying to watch their game;  _ traitors _ .

Finally settling on another rerun of the cop show with the two sexy female detectives; even the image of women wearing high-heels and minis to chase down bad guys couldn't distract him from the nagging worry. He recalled the conversation that night in the hotel room when Steve had gotten in a dig about him, Danny, being pretty smart for a blonde.  _ God _ , _ I really miss the big goof, _ he thought sadly and wondered for the thousandth time how this was all going to end for his best friend – his brother.

Was Steve destined to be another of the lost warriors forever tormented by things seen and done in the line of duty? While the man had always appeared non-reactive to things that horrified his partner, a tough Jersey cop of many years, Steve wasn't a machine. Sure, Danny was wont to tell him from time to time that the man was 'emotionally stunted' and probably some kind of deadly robot invented by a secret government laboratory somewhere but the words now seemed so cruel. If Steve was here, right now, Danny would apologize with every breath he took in the man's presence.

Dragging out his laptop from its 'storage place' under the couch, he fired it up and began to read more on the treatment of PTSD. There had to be something he could do to help.

…

As it turned out, only Danny and Catherine would be able to make the trip to the smaller island. Chin and Kono had an assignment to handle for the governor. Denning's old business partner, (and major campaign contributor), had been pistol whipped and robbed at gunpoint in the parking garage of his posh, high-rise, office building. This had happened four days ago and to date there'd been no break in the case.

Denning felt HPD had been floundering in its investigation and in his words, 'Couldn't find their asses with both hands.'

No leads had as yet come to light and Denning was getting antsy. The man had asked when Steve was ready to come back to work. He knew the SEAL was the driving force behind his special task force's success and, even though they'd had their differences, felt the case could certainly benefit from someone as focused and 'energetic' as its commander.

Danny had told him that Steve was still in California recuperating; that the SEAL's injuries were more serious than first thought. Denning only answered with "Hmm". The diminutive detective knew that could mean several things from, 'I'm sorry to hear that' to 'Tell McGarrett to get his ass back to work'. Danny had mollified him somewhat by assuring him they would make the case their number one priority and would do everything in their power to bring it to a successful conclusion.

That was a close one.

….

The commuter plane's turboprop droned loudly in the cramped cabin as he glanced over at his traveling companion. Cath looked somewhat relaxed but he could tell worry was simmering just under the elegant surface. With the golden light coming through the window backlighting her profile, he was again impressed by her attractiveness. Steve surely must know how lucky he is to have such an intelligent and beautiful woman in his life.

When she spied him looking at her across the narrow aisle of the ten passenger puddle-jumper and she smiled, quirked her dark brows, and asked, "What?"

He decided to be blunt. "Catherine, you can tell me to go to hell if you want to but how is it that you and Steve won't acknowledge that you're, you know, boyfriend and girlfriend?"

It took so long for the woman to form an answer that Danny thought by her silence, she'd done just that, told him to go to hell. Dark eyes regarded him seriously for several beats before she began to speak.

"It's complicated." she said and the detective just nodded in reply, thinking he was going to get some sort of 'Steve' answer.

"No, Danny, I really mean that it's complicated." Taking another moment to gather her thoughts, she began, "Steve and I do love each other but our careers kept us apart for so long. Any time we did get to spend together was . . . well . . . special."

When the blonde sitting across the aisle only looked blankly back at her, she went on, "It's like Cinderella's ball, it’s . . ."

"Excuse me?" interrupted Danny, not being able to help himself, "I can't picture either one of you wearing glass slippers." he smiled, "Well, maybe Steve if we got him drunk enough."

Rolling her eyes, she continued, "We know the time we have together is limited and the bell's going to toll at midnight or whatever and well . . . we'll have to part and go back to the real world. It's so intense and focused for such a short time, it's like having Christmas and Fourth of July and your birthday all rolled into one. Calling it something as mundane as 'boyfriend/girlfriend' it . . . it kind of loses in the translation."

Though it was certainly more of an answer than he'd ever get out of Steve, to Danny, it still didn't make a whole lot of sense and his expression must have reflected that because she went on, "I think we're both unsure what to call it.  If we declare it a boyfriend/girlfriend thing, it might make it a little too real . . . you know."

Danny only nodded as though it made sense to him.  _ These people are nuts! _ was what he was actually thinking.

Summing it up for himself, he stated, "So what I think you may be saying is that you both have a fear of commitment?"

The woman actually looked kind of surprised, "No, I don't really. Steve is the only one for me nearly since we first met. I do think that maybe deep-down Steve is afraid that I'll eventually move on and he'll be alone again. I think that's what makes him so gun-shy."

Danny could feel a headache coming on. He was sure his eyes were glazing over.

Just then, the captain announced they'd be landing at Ho'olehua Airport in ten minutes. At this point, they both welcomed the interruption and began to check around themselves to make sure sunglasses, wallets, etcetera were in their proper places.

That was close.

…..

The visitor causing the commotion among the 'watchdogs' turned out to be Howard the hardware store owner. Kip gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek and he removed the battered rain hat covering his nearly bald head.

"So, Kip, what's for dinner?" he asked as he took off his jacket and shook the water off of it onto the porch before moving into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Thought you'd like some comfort food since the weather's been so miserable." she answered.

"How's your guest feeling? He didn't look all that great last time I saw him. Those little punks pounded on him pretty good."

"He's doing better though not as good as he could be. He's got a couple broken ribs and maybe some bronchial issues. He's been coughing his head off but I've been giving him some of my mother's special tea. Seems to help some."

"Yeah, I remember drinking some of that stuff that time I broke my wrist and you splinted it. I think I hallucinated giant bunny rabbits the rest of the night. That was some pretty strong tea." he chuckled.

"Told you not to drink so much of it." she laughed.

Listening from the other room, Steve realized her laughter had a different sound to it this time; kind of like the way he remembered girls used to laugh at his stupid jokes in high school.  _ So _ , he mused to himself,  _ Kip has a boyfriend _ .

"Ua Kane" she called from the living room. "Howard's come for dinner with us. If you want to get cleaned up before we eat, your clothes are in the bathroom on the rack with a towel. Take your time. Dinner won't be ready for almost another hour yet. Oh yeah, and make sure you drink some tea. It's on the stove."

"Yes ma'am." he called back, adding, "Hey Howard, see you in a bit." As he made his way across the kitchen to the stove, he mused,  _ What the hell is in that stuff? _

Though Steve was a bit uncomfortable feeling he was a third wheel and might cramp Howard's style, dinner was actually pleasant. They talked about the melee in front of the store and he'd learned Hakoda had declared it a 'non-crime' and felt no further investigation was necessary.

The SEAL was thankful the incident would be pretty much forgotten by the authorities or 'authority'. If he was trying to stay under the radar, it wouldn't help to be thrown in jail for assault.

This was a sort of Mayberry jurisdiction with the lone local cop making decisions without anyone's lawyers getting involved.  _ Could be good, could be bad, depending on the cop _ , thought McGarrett. He also learned that while Sargent Mario Hakoda was a hard-ass, he was also thought of as fair in his treatment of those in his jurisdiction of many years.

As the evening wore on, the three noted the rain had nearly stopped; just a few intermittent sprinkles remained. "According to the television weather reports, it should be clear for the next few days." said Howard.

Steve was actually able to relax a bit. There was no pressure to be anything other than himself. He didn't have to be anyone's boss, commander, protector. No one had any expectations for him and he had none for himself. It felt strange to be so unfettered. Since he'd been away from home even the nightmares seemed to come less frequently.  And when they did, he was more successful in waking before he had to be peeled off the walls.

"Rain Man?" he heard as he was startled back into the present by Kip's voice.

"Uhh, sorry. Musta spaced out there for a moment." he apologized as Howard looked at him quizzically.

"So, uhh, Rain Man," began Howard a little awkwardly thinking,  _ What the hell kind of name is that? _ Oh, well, he had a cousin who'd been born in the sixties whose name was 'Starchild Rainbow'. He guessed if Kip was okay with it so was he, "What kind of work do you do?"

Steve was actually startled by the question. He had no idea what to answer: sniper? trained killer?

"I . . . fix sewing machines and uhh . . . roofs!." He smiled at Kip as he looked at the nearly full galvanized tub in the corner by the stove. The trickle of rainwater had actually provided a sort of background music to their conversation.

"You aren't getting up on my roof until you feel better. Don't even think about it." said Kip without even looking up from her plate. "I've got enough craziness around here without adding more."

Steve smiled as the water continued to soothingly trickle into the tub and the warmth of the kitchen and the company fooled him into once more thinking he was undamaged.

…..

The smooth surface of the moonless night was fractured by a tiny flash of white. Just a tiny thing in the immense blackness. Something small about the size of a bandage across a broken nose was visible.

"Fucking haole’s gonna pay for what he did", said a voice in the darkness as another whispered back, "You got dat right, braddah".

 


	25. Something in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny and Catherine become discouraged in the search for their lost friend. Steve finds out the hard way that the evil lurking in the dark isn't just all in his head. Bad things are coming.

**Molokai:**

The small plane taxied to the gate and came to a stop. Shortly, they heard the whir and clunk of the stairway locking into place.

Having exited onto the steaming tarmac, Danny surveyed his surroundings as they walked toward the actual terminal. Fluffy clouds scudded across the cerulean sky like ghostly white sailing ships. The breeze blew its soft humid breath over his sweaty skin as birds fluttered by on their little birdy missions.

 _Jeeze_ , he already hated this place.

"Come on Danny. Let's get to the jeep rental counter." said Cath impatiently as she picked up her carry-on.

"Have to wait for them to unload the luggage" he said. "Why don't you go ahead to get the process started."

Both of them had packed only carry-ons but Danny had checked a duffle bag of equipment they might need. _Steve would be proud_ , he thought as he waited for the cart of luggage and boxes from the small cargo hold to be wheeled into the terminal. The duffle contained all the essentials for traipsing around in the jungle. He'd based his selection of gear on SuperSEAL's choice of equipment when they'd last gone hiking.

Of course, the hike didn't worked out all that well. The tall man had finally tired of Danny's constant bitching about heat, humidity, bugs, etc., and had told his kvetching partner that they’d be home soon and he wouldn't have to worry about going hiking ever again – at least not with him.

Though verbal battles were one of the basic elements of their friendship with both sides getting in their shots, they were usually forgotten over beers at the end of the day. _He missed it so much._

They’d gotten a deal from one of the many members of the extended Kalakaua family and after listening to the polite lecture from the cousin/auto rental guy about unpaved roads and respecting the island's ecological balance, he handed them the key to the small 4-wheel drive.  They threw their gear into it and Danny cranked it up. Far from being the newest vehicle he’d ever driven he waited a moment for the engine to smooth out before putting it into gear to drive out of the lot onto the two-lane highway that lead to Kalaupapa National Park.

As they neared their destination, Cath looked around at the thickening vegetation and her heart began to sink. She was very much aware of Steve's skills in the wild. If he was in there somewhere and he didn't want to be found, then he wouldn't be. They'd go back to Oahu empty handed.

Nearing their destination, they climbed toward the mist covered heights as the Jeep's small engine began to lug slightly on the steep incline. The two in the straining vehicle wore nearly identical expressions: grim, purposeful, determined, but neither man's nor woman's wore hope.

. . .

**Lanai:**

He'd easily climbed onto the shingled roof as Kip, Howard, three dogs, four sheep, six geese, three goats and a cow all looked upward to watch him do it. Apparently the chickens didn't have the attention span to care and he knew the rabbit was still in time-out for escaping and nearly getting eaten by wild boar so they weren’t part of the audience.

"Found it!" he called down to Howard, "Send up some shingles, the hammer, nails and the sticky stuff."

He walked to the edge of the roof to catch the end of the rope Howard threw to him and leaned down to pull up the bucket with the roofing supplies. He tried not to show the twinge in his side as he bent and began to tug the supplies upward.

Kip had been watching him like a hawk. He knew if she suspected he was in pain, she'd shut-down the project. It was almost like being around Danny in full-tilt mother hen mode. Once again, a wave of sadness and guilt broke over him. He'd been debating with himself as to whether he should send some sort of message to his ohana that he was still alive.  Maybe for the moment at least he'd stay that way. The thoughts of ending the pain had lessened since he'd been here but there were still some very dark moments. The nightmares still relentlessly plagued him but, for now, he'd stay.

The message would have to be sent in a way that wasn't easily traced because he was certain they were looking for him. He hadn't run that far and he was actually sort of surprised they hadn't found him yet. If they did, he had no idea what he could say to them. Nevertheless, the team knew his habits and was more than good at what they did; they’d be hot on his trail.

He was also good at what he did - excellent in fact – at least at disappearing. His training had given him the skills to do so but he knew he wasn't at the top of his game. Maybe he wouldn't ever be again. His thoughts still felt scrambled and chaotic and at times the flashbacks would appear without warning. So far, he'd hidden them from Kip but he knew it was only a matter of time before he had one he couldn't hide. He felt guilty for even accepting Kip's offer of help but he knew he had nowhere else to go. He couldn't go back to Oahu. He was too screwed-up to wander around loose in a populated place. Kip had even seen him wake from his nightmares a few times and it didn't seem to faze her.

Even when he'd fixed her sewing machine, he'd sneaked into town in the middle of the night to do so. He had to laugh to himself – all that training had certainly paid off. It made him capable of sneaking into an unsecured target to fix a sewing machine. Life could be strange if nothing else. He fastened the last of the new shingles onto the sub-roofing and smiled in triumph.

With her hand shielding her eyes from the sun's bright glare, Kip looked upward with worry. After only a week she didn't consider him in good enough shape to be engaged in roof repair but he'd easily clambered up the rickety ladder.

Shirtless in the sun, his skin was tanning quickly. The scar that trailed down his side and ended somewhere below his military style belt was still obvious; looking red and painful. She would have to make up a batch of emollient that helped with such things. It had done wonders for the rabbit. Howard, who'd been the one to put Ua Kane in pajamas on that first night, told her the weal went down past his hip bone and looked fairly new. He assumed it was from a knife fight and was fairly freaked-out Kip was willing to take on someone who could be involved in such things.

She tried to allay his concern saying she had a 'feeling' about this new friend. She told Howard that her new friend only looked lost – not dangerous; that Ua Kane reminded her of one of her dogs – the one who'd been so badly mistreated.

Howard quickly reminded her that the dog was an unstable shithead and could easily snap and do someone damage – even Kip herself.

She dismissively waved away his concern. She still hadn't admitted to him that the man actually reminded her of Joey.

Deep down, she knew Joey had been very much like the old dog; quick tempered and even dangerous at times. Sadly, her son's demons had won and driven him from his home. She'd failed to keep him safe and bring him back from the edge. Perhaps this time she would be more successful.

Brought back from her musings when she heard, "Okay that should do it. I guess we'll find out during the next rain if it was good enough." She realized it was starting to cloud up again. Apparently, they'd get their test of the roof-repair sooner rather than later.

"Okay get down from there now! If you fall off and break something else, I'm not gonna carry your ass back inside!" called Kip.

"You really do remind me of someone." smiled Steve as he tossed the hammer, nails and container of gooey mastic into the bucket and lowered it back down to Howard. He paused briefly when he thought he saw a flash in the distance. He froze and looked closer but didn't see anything more. It could have been his imagination or maybe it was just the paranoia again. He hoped it didn't portend another flashback. Hurriedly, he clambered back down the ladder to the ground.

He looked around at the animals that still continued to stare at him. Now he had more than just One-Eyed-Jack to contend with. It was still creepy.

As for his rapt audience, now that the novelty of seeing someone on the roof was gone, the onlookers slowly dispersed to nibble on grass or take naps in the last remaining sunshine before it disappeared behind the darkening billows beginning to obscure the peaceful sky.

. . .

 **Molokai** :

In the gravel parking area at Kalaupapa, Danny wiped the sweat from his brow and kicked the tire of the jeep in frustration. Once again it was a dead-end. They'd haunted the trail heads and spoken to what seemed every tourist and every park ranger on the island and shown Steve's picture to them all. No one remembered seeing the tall man.

Cath had to get back to work in two days and Denning was practically frothing at the mouth. Chin and Kono had failed to come up with any promising leads to the identity of the Governor's ex-partner's assailant. It seemed as though things on both islands had come to an utter and complete standstill.

They'd finally given up on the idea of trying to find Steve in the beautiful but incredibly inaccessible tropical forests. They'd need the Army, Navy, Air Force and maybe a mounted posse or two to do a proper search. There were actually no roads into Kalaupapa except those that could be traveled on foot or by mule. Danny was willing to do it but Cath pointed out that Steve would surely be nowhere near any trail that was frequented by tourists, even if they were muleback. Danny agreed. He felt Steve was trying to stay as far away from human beings as possible.

The detective was truly at wit's end as to how to find his troubled friend. For all he knew, Steve could even be dead by now. Danny had seen the desolation in his friend's eyes. Further conversation with Esquivel had confirmed for him that the ‘something stupid' they'd both been unwilling to name was suicide. It wasn't that uncommon for the walking wounded to resort to that final desperate measure to escape whatever tormented them.

The detective also suspected that his friend was besieged by additional layer of guilt over whatever unimaginable horror that had unhinged him.  It must be the worst kind of hell to worry that you could unintentionally harm those you loved. He knew that if he himself thought he could ever harm Gracie, he'd sign over custody to Rachel and never see his fiercely beloved daughter again.  If that's what it took to keep her safe, he’d do it in a New York minute..

 _Oh god,_ thought Danny. _Now_ he understood why Steve had run. _Now_ he understood why the man couldn't bear to be around anyone right now. _Now_ he understood the fear. His eyes teared in anguish for his lost friend. He could barely make out Cath in the distance as she approached yet another tourist with Steve's picture in hand.

. . .

**Lanai:**

Over the next couple of weeks things had gone fairly well. Her friend seemed to be feeling better though the racking cough still stubbornly refused to go away. He'd even managed to gain a few pounds. Keeping busy, mostly outdoors, with various repairs around her place, he was now nearly as tanned as some of the native population. He knew she couldn't pay him and told her he'd work for room and board until he'd run out of things to repair then he’d move on. Between some of Malu's clothing she couldn't bear to part with and some of Joey's she'd saved in hope for his return, they'd even come up with a meager wardrobe for her handyman.  The clothing hung on him of course but maybe he’d eventually fill it out a little better as he gained more weight.

From the kitchen window, Kip watched as her friend worked on fixing the goat pen. The little bastards had managed to escape again; this time pillaging her crop of green beans. _Probably as dessert after the porch swing's seat cushions_ , she mused in irritation. Hands still in sudsy water, she broke into a smile as she watched him try to make friends with the most determined of the black goats to keep it from chewing up his tool bag.  It was the leather one that had belonged to Malu and it already had a few teeth marks on it from previous encounters with similar animals.

With a sad sigh she went back to her dish washing.  Physically, Ua Kane had been making progress but he still sometimes woke screaming in the middle of the night. The first time it happened it had scared the crap out of her. She'd jumped out of bed to rush to the storeroom. He didn't answer when she called out to him from the other side of the door. From unfortunate experience she knew what had probably occurred and quietly and slowly pushed open the door; peering around it to make sure it was safe to come into the room. She found him sitting up, trembling as he stared into the darkness at things only he could see.

Yes, she knew about the terrors sleep could visit on returned warriors.  She knew not to touch him to wake him. Malu had learned that lesson the hard way when his son had violently lashed out and broken his father's nose that one time. Joey had left the next day. Besides breaking his father's nose, his leaving had broken his father's heart as well.

She had the feeling Ua Kane was somehow even more worrying. Beneath his usual calm surface was a fierce intensity. She knew it was something great warriors had. It was part of what made them warriors in the first place but without control and a strong sense of right and wrong it could make them dangerous to more than just the enemy.

Malu himself had this intensity. She'd first met him when he'd returned from Vietnam with many scars and blind in one eye but, thankfully, he'd made it home. Many of those who'd left the islands to fight that faith-destroying war had never returned. She'd never told him but she was almost glad he'd been injured early on in his tour of duty - before he could be even more damaged by his time there.

Her husband was a restless soul but a good one. He watched over her and protected her. He loved her and she him. She missed him every day but life went on. Sometimes it was good, sometimes it was bad, but it was always interesting.

She and Ua Kane didn't talk about what had happened to make him wander from his home. On the nights of the terrors when sleep was only a word rather than a reality, she'd sit with him and drink tea and they'd work together on the puzzle laid out on the kitchen table.  It depicted a ship adrift on a moonlit sea.

. . .

They'd spotted their target up on the roof of the little house. Hmm, if the guy’s in good enough shape to climb a ladder, he’s in good enough shape to defend himself even better than he had that first time.

Benji Pakele nervously tapped the binoculars suspended from the cord around his neck. They were expensive ones. They'd been stolen from one of the more well-to-do residents on this side of the island.

"We got to get rid of that haole. That old bitch with the bat wuz what saved his mangy ass.  She needs a lesson too."

"Benji, even without her if Apela hadn't been there to hold onto him he woulda kicked our asses, brah." said Keanu Nahulu, (aka Rabbit, his unfortunate nickname).

"Well, Apela ain't gonna be out of the hospital for another week. He's too trashed be in on any action." replied Benji with a scowl.  His nose is aching and it had made him even more surly than was his norm.

"Yeah,” agreed Rabbit, “Kip really did a number on him with that bat but we still got Jimmy an' Timmy."

"Uh uh, we don't. The whiny asses' mommy and daddy told them to knock off the shit or they're gonna turn 'em over to Hakoda. They ain't going nowhere. Those two jerkoffs still afraid of that old man even though they could clean his clock easy."

"At least they got parents who give a shit." said Keanu almost wistfully.

"Shut-up Rabbit." snarled Benji. "Hand me the rifle."

. . .

"Howard, help me get the goats into the shed, the sheep will follow them in there."

"Just leave 'em out Kip, they're smart enough to get out of the rain."

Standing with hands on hips and lips compressed into a line as she stared back at him. "You've got to be kidding." she said.

"Okay, okay, I'll help round 'em up."

"I'll help too." said Steve as he neatly coiled the rope and fastened the end so it wouldn't unravel. He'd already made sure the top to the container of the mastic was secure and was preparing to put everything back where it belonged.  He didn’t want to let the order he’d created in the barn to regress to the chaos in which her supplies and equipment had apparently long languished. Caring and kind as she is, Kip is no neat freak.

"Look, Rain Man, I agreed to let you get up onto my roof but don't think I'm gonna have you running around chasing livestock."

"Come-on Kip." laughed Steve, "I think the goats are beginning to like me."

Again, she gave her 'You've got to be kidding' look. "Those goats don't like anything other than whatever they can eat. If Koa decides to get all macho about his little harem and butts you, you could get those ribs busted all over again."

"You don't care if that darned goat butts me?" squawked Howard in a mock hurt tone.

"Howard, my love, I think we both have enough padding on us that Koa can't hurt us much." teased Kip, "But it would sure as hell would wreck Ua Kane; no extra cushioning on that skinny ass."

Of course both Howard and Steve were too gentlemanly to point out that Kip's ample derriere would indeed put a stop to any of the irascible billy goat’s tactics. But before Howard could form that thought in a defensive but tactful reply, she added “That goat knows that if he butts me it would be like running into a Buick and he's gonna be very sorry he did."

Steve only looked at the couple wide-eyed; mouth beginning to twitch as Howard tried not to explode in laughter next to him. Kip looked at them both with merry challenge in eyes daring them to say anything about her zaftig figure.

. . .

They only had to wait for him to come out to feed the animals. There were so many of the disgusting creatures that the old woman had to draft her newest adopted stray to help her feed the others that had come before.

Right now, as it grew darker, they could see him carrying hay to the old cow in the pasture behind the house. The ancient black and white bovine had long ago stopped giving milk. Six years ago when Benji was still in grade school his old man had tried to get its former owner, a local farmer, to sell him the decrepit animal for meat. His father had been greatly annoyed when Kekipi Maluhia had beaten him to it with a higher bid; saying she’d snatched up the sale from right under his nose. Lyle Kapele had even gone so far as to threaten the woman into giving up her claim on the old cow. That had been a HUGE mistake. Malu, her husband, had come after him and the fight that ensued left his old man pounded into the dirt. Blind in one eye or not, Malu was a tough bastard.

Now the old woman had adopted another stray to add to her collection of mangy misfits. This is his chance to get back at that crazy bitch. He’s going to relish getting rid of something that's important to her - a rescued animal.

. . .

It was the same feeling he'd had when his team had entered that narrow canyon.

Something isn’t right.

He uneasily checked his surroundings before spreading the hay out into the trough. He didn’t see or hear anything unusual but . . . there's that feeling.  His muscles tense with unexplained apprehension as a moisture-laden breeze ruffles through the scraggly grass of the sloping pasture. The uneasy air seems to whisper of menace.

The cow is munching noisily on its fodder as he absently scratches the top of her head while with narrowed eyes he once again surveys the terrain behind the house.

The old dog had followed him out to the pasture but stayed its distance. Other than no longer growling at him, it isn't any friendlier than it had been.

The branches of the small lone tree in the middle of the pasture sway in the soft humid wind. As the air floats over his skin, he can feel the hair on his arms begin to stand up. Once again, he turns in a circle to warily check his surroundings but sees nothing. The wind shifts to carry from the stand of trees that stands on the rise above them and the dog issues a low growl.

Steve's heart begins to speed up. He's sure now that it isn't just the beginning of another flashback. He decides to make a run for cover just as the flat crack of a rifle rolls across the open pasture.

 


	26. A Scary Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go from bad to worse . . . much, much, worse.

 

**Lanai:**

Kip and Howard sat companionably in the kitchen, entertaining each other with stories of wild youth as they shelled peas and peeled potatoes for tonight's dinner.

Howard had just started to recount the time he'd joined a group of college friends who'd decided it was a good idea to strip-off in the middle of a Kansas winter and streak someone's mother's bridge club.

At that moment a sharp, echoing, report came from somewhere beyond the back of the house. It startled Kip into dropping the colander of peas resting in her lap as she let loose an oath and shot up from her chair. The container landed with a tinny clatter and the small green spheres caromed around the kitchen; bouncing and rolling across the faded linoleum.

Howard was already out the back door. He'd immediately recognized the sound of rifle fire and knew that 'No Hunting' signs were posted all over Kip's property. Looking outward from the back porch, he spied a figure running swiftly toward the hill beyond the back pasture.

"Kip! Stay inside!" he yelled to his companion.

"My ass!" she replied as he heard the screen door slam behind him and Kip appeared at his elbow.

Two sets of eyes searched the distance. There was no further fire but the handyman was nowhere to be found. "Where's Ua Kane!?" asked Kip anxiety making her heart pound.

"I saw someone running up the rise toward the trees." replied Howard, "But I couldn't tell who it was."

Looking more closely at the empty appearing pasture, he saw the cow lying on her side near the feed trough. "Looks like maybe the cow's down." he said trying to grab Kip's arm to keep her from leaving the small wooden porch. "Dammit Kip! Don't go out there. We don't know who's shooting or if they're done!"

"Marilyn!" she cried darting off the porch and across the back yard toward the downed animal. "Call Hakoda and tell him to get out here!" she called over her shoulder to Howard who'd started after her. Her dread increased as she came closer to the motionless mound lying on the damp earth.

Howard, realizing it was futile to try to stop the force that is Kekipi Maluhia, let loose some choice epithets before dashing back to the house to retrieve the cell phone he'd left on the kitchen table.

Kip could immediately tell that Marilyn had breathed her last. Heart hammering in her ears, she frantically skimmed the large pasture for another body but there was no sign of her friend.  Only the old dog who sat staring back at her before hobbling toward the house. She exhaled shakily. _Where is he?_

Eyes still searching the line of trees above the pasture, she knelt beside the ancient black and white Holstein to tenderly stroke the coarse coat. The cow's glossy neck was still warm under her hand. At least her death had been quick. There wasn't even much blood from the neat hole above her eye.

"Malama pono Akua" she whispered to the still form as she sighed despairingly and rose to her feet. Looking downward and blinking tear blurred eyes she noticed a few small crimson droplets staining one of the large white patches on Marilyn's flank. Bending to look closer, she saw no evidence of another bullet wound to account for the blood.

"Shit." muttered Kip, that too familiar feeling of dread making her stomach tighten once more. There was only one logical source and he was nowhere to be found.

In panic, she looked toward the trees at the top of the slope, trying to spot the tall man among the trunks of the banyans. There was no sign of him. _Did he run for cover? Was he chasing the shooter?_ _Where is he?_ The thoughts ricocheted around her head like the peas that had scattered over her kitchen floor.

There was nothing to see other than the movement of branches in the wind. She had a very, very, bad feeling. The death of the cow was upsetting to be sure but the worry that now filled her was so strong it seemed to constrict her breathing.

"Rain Man!" she shouted toward the deepening shadows. "Ua Kane! Rain Man! Where are you! Come out!"

The only sound answering her calls is of wind rushing through tops of the trees; flowing over the contours of the land to ruffle the grass.

She stood for a long while staring into the gathering gloom, hoping to see his spare figure emerge from the forest. Eventually, she sat next to Marilyn's body and stayed there until it was too dark to see as she waited for her friend to return. When Howard had realized she wasn't ready to abandon her vigil, he brought her a jacket and an umbrella to protect her from the fine drizzle that had begun to fall. Only when she heard the sound of Hakoda's jeep labor up the rise to her cottage did she acquiesce to return to its shelter.

Howard tried to assist her as she rose stiffly from her place on ground but she waved him off and requested he go to greet the law enforcement officer. Once again he reluctantly did her bidding and left her standing in the pasture. She could see the mercury vapor porch light stutter then glow as he entered the cottage. After another few minutes, she sighed in defeat.  In a soft voice she murmured into the darkness, "Malama pono Stevie". Shoulders slumped, she turned to walk tiredly toward the brightly lit house

. . . . . 

**Oahu:**

They'd returned from Molokai on the last flight out for the day. Cath had to get back to her ship. She tried to get emergency leave so that she could stay and search but her C.O. didn't recognize the importance of a relationship that hadn't been legally formalized. Even if she'd called Steve her fiancé he probably wouldn't have given it to her.

Danny could tell she was nearly in tears with frustration as he drove her to Hickam to catch a transport that would take her to San Diego where her ship was currently docked. He felt like crying himself. They'd gotten no closer to finding Steve. The detective's compact body ached with exhaustion and his eyes burned with fatigue as he steered the Camaro toward the airfield.

There was no time for conversation as he hugged her goodbye, whispering in her ear, "I'll find him and bring him home. I won't give up."

She said nothing but gave him a sad, teary, smile as she squared her shoulders and walked toward the big C-130 that sat on the runway.

. . . . .

**Lanai:**

**A scary place:**

_It’s full dark now. The night creatures call to each other in the gloom. He'd lost another man. Earlier, Cantu had been taken out as he stood to squint into the sun toward the group of supposed civilians gathered on the rocky ridge in front of them. He'd bled out in only a few minutes despite the desperate measures of what was left of his team. In the background, Steve could hear the crying of children and the strained entreaties of adults as they sought to quiet them._

_It seemed as though they'd been chasing their own tails for nearly a week now. The enemy was like smoke that dispersed into the rock-strewn terrain of the high desert. It had been rough going. They were no longer on the harsh sandy bottomland but had started to climb upward toward the pass. This small group of civilians had been captured then released by the band they'd been pursuing. Whether captives were killed or set free seemed to be a decision made on whimsy. He had no idea of the criteria that made the difference between life and death for the innocent._

_He only knew he was sick of sand and blood. Here, death was messy. It turned men, women and even children into piles of ruined flesh. There was no certainty that you would see the next sunrise. The only certainty was that the Grim Reaper could at any moment tap on the shoulders of the culpable or the innocent, the young or the old; no one was safe._

_Maybe exhaustion had made them careless but it was no excuse. He was the one responsible for bringing everyone back and he'd failed miserably. Parkman and Hannaman were gone. He'd only had time to grab their tags and help bury their bodies in shallow graves for later retrieval. He'd carefully noted the coordinates on the map and would use the sat phone to call them in when he could take the chance. Now, he had one more to add to the hastily scribbled list._

He heard the call of an ʻiʻiwi bird. That's funny, he didn't know they had that species here. He listened closer. It sure sounded like one; their call was distinctive.

Opening his eyes, he saw only smothering darkness. "Rodriguez?" he called out softly, waiting for a response . . . there was none. He looked around himself for his gun but it wasn't there _. What the fuck? Where’s his carbine?_ His hand went to his belt looking for the knife that should be there . . . it wasn't. _What had happened to his SOG?_ Searching through his pockets, he found only a box cutter. Why would he be armed with only a box cutter?

"Heidegger?" he called out into the darkness and, once again, received no reply.

He’s the last one then. It’s up to him now. He had to take out the enemy alone. Rage filled him as he stole silently into the blackness.

. . . . .

Benji and Keanu thrashed through the undergrowth, hearts pounding and eyes wild as they fled from their hiding place in the banyan grove. Benji wasn't sure if he'd actually hit anything. He'd only recently acquired the rifle that had been stolen along with the binoculars and the big knife that hung from his belt. He didn't trust Rabbit to use any of those things. The guy could punch pretty hard but he was a giant fuck-up when it came to anything to do with weapons. The last time Benji had allowed him to use the gun he'd almost shot his own stupid self.

It’s dark now. The forest is a pretty scary place in the dark. He'd never admitted it to anyone but he used to beg his mother to leave a light on in his room when he slept. Even going out to spy on the old woman's house after daylight had him sweating but he wasn't going to permit the familiar old fear to show, particularly in front of his idiot companion.

"Hold up, brah!  My legs about to give out!" breathlessly pleaded Keanu.

"Suck it up, Rabbit.” sneered the big youth.

 “You fucked up, brah.  I think maybe you wounded him and it pissed him off.”

 “I don't know if I even hit the guy. I only meant to kill those mangy animals. If I could scare the crap out of the haole and make that old bitch think her new pet is gonna get the other ones offed, maybe she'll tell him to get lost.”

"I don't think you scared him, Benji. He's probably after us right now!"

"Just keep going you whiny bitch." answered his companion; disgust evident in his tone. "I knew I should’n a take you with me."

Distracted by their bickering, they didn't hear the man who silently followed their trail through the dense undergrowth. If they had, and they knew his intent, they'd have run even faster.

. . . . .

**Oahu:**

Kamekona hurriedly punched in the number for the little haole. He waited while it rang for what seemed forever. He was expecting the call to go to voicemail when the cop answered.

"Detective Williams" barked Danny without first looking at caller I.D. If he had, he'd have seen the scary/smiley face of the shrimp truck entrepreneur. He hadn't yet given him a special ring tone but the big man’s face was there to see.

"We maybe got an idea where McGarrett might be." said Kamekona without preamble.

Danny stood from behind his desk and walked to the door of his office in readiness to summon the cousins. When he heard those words, his gut gave a lurch and he clutched the phone tighter as though if dropped, the lead itself would evaporate when the device hit the ground. "What did you find out?" he snapped.

"My cousin, Ha'upu jus came back from a . . . uhh pineapple run from Lanai dis morning. He said he heard from another . . . uhh pineapple importer that a couple weeks ago, a tall skinny haole cleaned everybody's clock in a fight with a buncha mokes. Kicked 'okole pretty good with the assistance of a auntie with a baseball bat. It was on da north side in a place not even on da tourist maps."

"They have any other information? What did the guy look like. What's the name of the place? What was he doing there?"

Once again, Kamekona marveled at the machine gun speech of Five-0’s diminutive detective. _How did McGarrett even keep up with it?_ "Doan know da answers to any of doze questions, brah, jus dat he was tall an look like he should eat someting.  My source said dat, before he went down, da stranger kicked okole like he done it lotsa times before. Da town is pretty small. Like I said, you ain't gonna find it on no map.   It's about thirty miles northwest of Lanai City near Kanepuu Preserve."

"You said 'before he went down', what happened to him?" asked Danny worriedly, irritated at the deliberate speech pattern of their big friend. Between the big guy and Max . . . "

"Don't know, Ha'upu only said da brah got thumped on pretty bad but he gave better den he got."

"Thanks big guy, I'm gonna check it out. Maybe trouble found SuperSEAL again. Wouldn't be the first time."

"If you find da lolo, tell him if he doan stay put I'm gonna sit on him to keep him from going anywhere." warned Kamekona - probably only half in jest thought Danny.

"Hey, we just want to find him we don't want him dead."

"Almost funny, little man. Let me know if you catch his scrawny ass."

"Will do, big man. Thanks for the tip."

Chin and Kono had their heads buried in the piles of information scattered about Chin's desk. The governor was breathing fire over the, so far, unproductive investigation into the mugging of his friend. Five-0 had made no better headway on it than had HPD.

Leaning out his doorway he whistled loudly to get their attention before exclaiming, "Guys! We may have a lead on Steve!" He was unable to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

"What've you got?" asked Chin looking attentively at the man who paced while gathering his thoughts. Dark eyes focused intently, Kono followed the rapid movement of the man who strode manically back and forth in the small space in front of his desk.

"Kamekona's cousin heard from another 'importer' of pineapples who heard it from an associate that there'd been a brawl in a small village on the north coast of Lanai. One of the brawlers was a tall skinny haole who managed to kick some serious ass before he was taken out. There was also an old woman involved somehow - one of the locals."

"Kamekona's come through for us before. He wouldn’t have told us if he didn't think there was something to it." opined Chin.

"Yeah, the coconut telegraph stretches to all the islands and Lanai is only across the channel from Molokai. There's a ferry that runs between the two." Kono eagerly exclaimed.

"If it’s true that it’s him, Steve could have been there all along. And if he was hurt in the fight, he'd need somewhere to recover. Maybe he's still there. We gotta get a plane out there now!" said Danny, light in his eyes for the first time in weeks.

"Brah, I don't want to get too excited until we find out a little more. There are people that try to lose themselves in small villages on a regular basis. This could be Steve or it could be some random guy down on his luck who wanted to get lost for a while." said Chin

"We won't know until we see for ourselves, will we?" snapped Danny, not willing to acknowledge that it may not be their missing friend.

The cousins looked at one another with trepidation. If this guy Kamekona told them about wasn’t Steve, Danny would come crashing down from this high. If he turned out to be some schmuck trying to find or lose himself in the less traveled parts of Hawaii, they didn't want to see their friend’s reaction to having his hopes dashed. They didn't want to have their own hopes shot down in flames either. The cousin’s pulses quickened in tandem as they watched Danny already on the phone trying to get a flight to the small island.

. . . . .

**A _really_ scary place:**

The damp leaves slapped against his skin as he wove through the forest. He’s trailing them. He’s going to kill the ones who'd ended the lives of the men he was supposed to bring back to their loved ones. The men he'd failed to protect. He’s going to kill the bastards who'd slaughtered their own countrymen and women - even children - due to their fanatical, demented, interpretation of a holy book that called for no such thing. He was going to watch their blood run into the earth as he'd watched the blood of his comrades stain the sandy ground.

He rubbed absently at the graze on his forearm where a bullet had burned across his skin without entering it. I had long ago stopped bleeding and barely registered in his mind. His throat burned and his eyes ached. Why was it so humid here? It was never humid in the desert. Something wasn't right.

But there’s no giving up.  No stopping. No reprieve for the killers.  He has a job to do. The mission needs to be completed.  This time, he wouldn't fail.

 


	27. The Hard Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost in the tragic tangle of his own mind, Steve is on the hunt. Blood will be its result.

**Lanai:**

The strobe-like flash lit up the forest floor. The trees were starting to thin out here and light could actually get all the way to the ground. Thunder vibrated through his body with a nearly physical clout.

He was getting closer. He could smell them - their sweat, their fear.

He gripped the cool steel handle of the box cutter. It wasn't his weapon of choice but it would do. He still couldn't remember what had happened to his knife. They must have taken it from him but he didn't remember them doing so. It was a SOG, he'd paid a lot for it. It was probably gone with the carbine.

No matter.  He still had the small razor sharp blade . . . and he had his hands. If he could get close enough he wouldn't even need the knife. Snapping a neck would be no problem. No problem at all.

He was the only one left to get the job done. He'd finish the mission. He was the last one.

…

**Oahu:**

"So, we know Steve went to Lanai. What's on Lanai?" asked Danny, now even more frustrated that he couldn't immediately get a flight to the island. None of the commercial carriers or even the smaller tour choppers were flying right now because of the iffy weather.

"You're gonna hate this Danny but it's mostly an old pineapple plantation with a couple of high-end hotels on a small part of it. There's Lanai City and a marina but not much else." Chin bemusedly noticed Danny's slight grimace at the word 'pineapple'. They'd been trying to get more information on the village where Steve might be staying but, as Kamekona had said, it was pretty far off the beaten path.

"Why would Steve want to go hang out on a pineapple plantation?" asked the blonde cop distractedly.

"Friends maybe?" said Kono whose slender and normally fluid body looked stiffly tense as she leaned against the edge of the smart table. Actually, everyone looked tense.

Even though he knew Kono was trying to help, Danny waved a hand in dismissal, replying, "I don't think so. Like I've said before, he really didn't want to see anyone he knew." They were all worn thin. Steve's disappearance weighed heavily on them all while Denning was annoyingly putting the screws to them regarding his ex-partner's mugging and becoming more suspicious by the day regarding their missing commander.

There'd also been a sort of uneasiness brewing among the team, (as if having their leader missing for three weeks wasn't enough cause for unease). Both Chin and Kono shifted uncomfortably beside the electronic table where all had gathered to look up at the big screen displaying a map of Lanai.

Clearing his throat, it was Chin who began, "Danny, we've kept silent long enough brah, what the hell happened to Steve? What aren't you telling us?" For once, the Zen-like calm of the sinewy Hawaiian appeared unsettled.

"Chin, even if I knew, I couldn't tell you. I already broke my word to Steve by saying as much as I have but," said Danny, his regret plainly showing on his face. "it was the only thing I could think to do to get some help in finding him. I honestly don't know what happened. He refused to talk about it but whatever it is; it really fucked with his head."

Chin sighed resignedly and nodded in acknowledgement. Normally, he wouldn't even have felt it his place to ask but this was Steve - the guy who charged in guns blazing seemingly without a second thought - the guy who did everything in his power to keep everyone safe. Whatever it was, it must have been something horrific to send him into such a tailspin. He looked across the table at Kono who had fastened her gaze on him. Without even having to use words; the cousins renewed their resolve to find their friend.

Danny's head hurt but, mostly, it was his heart that troubled him. Steve so needed all the help his ohana could give him but how could they help if they couldn't even find him? And even if they did catch up with him, would he accept their help?

Heads down they stared blankly at the surface of the smart table. The three looked up at the same moment eyes locked questioningly on one another. Each saw only their own sadness reflected in faces of their teammates.

…

**Lanai:**

Benji and Rabbit stopped for a moment to take a breath as they plopped themselves on top of a rotting moss covered log. The larger of the two wiped sweat from his eyes as he tried to control his panting respirations.

The light from the full moon shone through breaks in the clouds; leaking through the treetops to cast ominous shadows. His nervously searched the dense foliage, looking for sign of the haole. There was something about that guy - something dangerous and scary as shit. He shoulda listened to Rabbit. He thought his friend was just being gutless when he told him not to do it but he'd refused to be bested by that old woman and her skinny haole.

Hell, he never even meant to shoot the guy; just that old dog and the cow and now here they are, he and Rabbit, running through the fucking jungle with another storm about to break any moment. They'd expected the one the old bat calls Ua Kane to run away but, instead, he'd run toward them!  _ That’s just fucking wrong. What the hell's the matter with the guy? _

There was a loud crack as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky and thunder rolled through the distance. Benji nearly jumped out of his skin.  _ Jesus, this is like a fucking horror movie! _

…..

Kip and Howard had finished giving their statements to the hefty sergeant. It was raining again and it pounded on the roof like the drums of Heaven. Kip would glance toward the windows every time lightning lit up the landscape.

_ This couldn't be happening again. _

Howard noted her distraction and subtly covered her hand with his as they sat at the kitchen table. Hakoda finished scribbling on his small notepad and tucked it and the stubby pencil back into his breast pocket.

"So, why is it that you haven't you ever asked this guy his name?" he asked once again looking pointedly at Kip.

"Wasn't any of my business." she replied.

"Kip, the guy's working for you and living in your house for chrissakes. You should at least know his real name."

Howard looked like he agreed with Hakoda. Even though he actually liked the tall man, there was something unsettling about him - some uneasiness just under the surface.

"I figured he'd tell me when he was ready. No big deal, Mario."

With one last chuff of resignation at the stubborn woman he'd known for many years, he heaved his bulk out of the chair and stood; adjusting his belt around his considerable girth before putting on his hat.

"We all know who the shooter or shooters probably are. That's not a big mystery. Those idiots sure have to learn the hard way. I can't believe the little punks actually had the balls to shoot a guy though. I've already checked on Jimmy and Timmy. They've been home for hours and that waste of oxygen named Apela is still hobbling around on crutches. Benji and Rabbit are the only ones missing."

"You'da thought they'd have already learned their lesson when Kip and Rain Man pounded the crap out of them last time." snorted Howard who smiled proudly at the woman sitting next to him.

Kip gave him a small smile in return, squeezing his hand as another crack of lightning lit up the sky and rain began to pound even harder onto her newly repaired roof.

"Okay." said Hakoda, noting the small gestures between the two. The torch he'd carried for Kip had never been extinguished. He thought that after Malu had died, he'd have a chance but Howard was the one who seemed to have taken up residence in her heart if not her home. He'd resigned himself to the frustratingly contentious relationship they continued to have. It was better than nothing. Anyway, attracted to her or not, the woman was still nuts.

Hakoda's battered jeep had just chugged away from the house toward the bottom of the hill when with another blinding flash of lightning and a crash of thunder shook the foundation.  The back door suddenly burst open.

Before them stood a tall man covered in blood.

 


	28. Memories Made of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's hard won tranquility is shattered. He wakes covered in blood. Someone has surely been killed by his doing but he can't remember who or why. His sanity is at its breaking point. Danny is so, so, close but there are those who want to delay his reunion with his desperate friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to comment and post kudos. I truly appreciate them. This is the first story I've posted on AO3 so I'm not sure what the protocol is. Is there a way to reply without it being included as part of the comments? Should replies be included? If someone knows, please message me. Thanks for any help.

**Lanai:**

The aircraft hovered above the small clearing at the edge of town - if you could call it a town. _Talk about Podunk,_ thought its passenger

Danny could see only the one main street; unpaved, with a few buildings lining it on either side.

Sorry that it hadn't occurred to him sooner, he hoped the noise of his arrival wouldn't have consequences for Steve. He'd long suspected the sound of a chopper could bring disquieting memories to his partner.  Sometimes during a loud flyover, he observed his partner tense. It was subtle but it was there. And that was before any of this current shit had even happened. Who knew what recall of past of trauma could have been triggered?

The sound of the rotors changed pitch and the runners touched the ground with a slight bump.

Thanking the pilot, he unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the aircraft to place his loafer clad feet on blessed terra firma. Detective Daniel Williams had definitely been created an earthbound creature. Spending time in or on the ocean or leaving the ground for any reason other than hopping up and down happens only if absolutely necessary. The aged but still serviceable helicopter that brought him here was usually used in some sort of agricultural capacity but in this instance had been pressed into service as an airborne taxi. He’s just glad it was available.

When told that Chin had talked his cousin into making the trip to Lanai, the haole detective had thought, _Chin and Kono must be related to everyone on the friggin' islands_!  As in many times past, the Kalakaua/Kelly familial connections had come in handy. Flown by the cousin of an uncle twice removed or something of the sort the old Bell 47 had done its job. Squinting against the turbulent air Danny waved and backed away as rotor blades created a backwash that whipped the grass around him.

They'd been lucky and had just beaten the latest rain squalls between storms. It had taken some persuasion on Chin's part to get his relative to agree to fly in the iffy weather. As it was, the agreement was to just drop Danny off and then it was up to the detective to find his way back to Oahu. The pilot wasted no time in once again becoming airborne. He'd already cut it close. _The things one does for ohana!_

After an online research of inter-island transportation Kono had informed Danny that he could take the ferry back to Molokai and then get a flight or boat from there to Honolulu. Unbeknownst to him, Danny's thoughts echoed those of the pilot but the important thing was getting to Steve as quickly as possible; after that, he'd just have to punt.

The cousins had stayed behind to continue working the governor's case. They were trying everything they could to mollify their employer to keep him from asking more about McGarrett’s absence.

Just before Danny had left for Lanai, Kono had taken a call from an unexpected source.  It could be a break in the case. The blonde detective hadn't even had time to find out any details; just that it had something to do with the victim’s ex. Danny could probably have related to issues involving ex-wives and would have been good to have around but he had to get to Steve before the weather window closed.

In the distance, he could see a coffee shop in the middle of the main drag. In a small place like this, it was always the best bet for gathering information on the goings on of the locals. Coffee shops or even general or convenience stores were always a spot where people would congregate with their gossip and chatter. He wished he had one of the cousins with him. He knew he stood out like a sore thumb and, from prior experience, knew that locals were less than inclined to talk to such a 'glow in the dark' haole as Kono had once teasingly described him. He hadn't taken offense because he knew she was right. Blonde hair and fair skin coupled with his defiant uniform of button-down shirts, dress slacks and loafers didn't necessarily allow him to blend in with the native population.

Steve was the one who'd finally convinced him to lose the tie. With an evil grin he'd informed his partner that if one more time he showed up for work wearing one, he would take his ‘big SEAL knife’ and cut it off his neck. And, if he dared wiggle while in the process, he couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be any 'accidental' bloodshed. _Sometimes the big goof could be strangely persuasive,_ thought Danny wryly.

He shook the thought from his head as he stepped around mud puddles the size of Lake Erie and hopped onto the wooden boardwalk that ran along the length of the street on both sides.

The sound of his footsteps was muffled by the dampness of the wood as he walked along it until he came to a halt in front of the coffee shop window. At this hour of the day it looked to be sparsely patronized. Pushing its door open and hearing the sound of the jingle bell attached to the handle, he walked into the warm room and looked around.

There were only two sets of customers in the place and the four locals of which they consisted looked up at him with suspicion if not open hostility. He saw the 'Seat Yourself' sign just inside the door and strode to the table closest to the front window. His shoes were wet from walking across the grassy field where he’d been left off and they made squelching noises in the suddenly silent cafe. He sat and, as he waited for someone to show up and ask what he wanted, wiggled his toes in soggy socks. _Dammit._

Presently, a girl of about sixteen or so with large dark eyes and a braid down her back came to the table to timidly hand him a menu and ask in a tiny voice, "Can I get you some coffee?"

"Well, since I am in a coffee shop I guess that would be a very good idea." he smiled at her.

She scurried away apparently unimpressed by his charm.

In another minute, she returned to set a heavy cup in front of him along with a spoon, a small pitcher of cream and a ceramic container filled with packets of sugar and various kinds of artificial sweeteners.

"Hi, I'm Detective Danny Williams of Five-0. What's your name?" he asked, again trying his smile.

"Uhh" . . . said the girl, looking like it was maybe a hard question to answer.

"Don't worry, I don't bite. What's your name, kid?" Again the Williams’ smile.

"Lila." she said almost inaudibly, adding, "I should go get my mom."

"Maybe that's a good idea." he agreed as the girl once again scurried away.

In another moment, a middle-aged woman wearing a bright muumuu appeared from a doorway behind the counter. She scowled as she approached the table.

"Is there something I can help you with . . . detective?"

"Yes, there may be, Mrs. . . ?"

"Wakakua" she supplied not losing her scowl.

"Mrs. Wakakua, I'd like you and your daughter to take a look at this picture and tell me if you've recently seen this man."

He took the folded picture of Steve out of his pocket and flattening out the creases, laid it on the table in front of him. Both the girl and her mother bent over it to look closely. The girl's large eyes grew larger in recognition but looking unsurely at her mother, she waited for her to speak.

"Is this man dangerous?" asked Mrs. Wakakua, looking more than a little apprehensive.

"No, no, don't worry. He's not dangerous. Just a friend I need to locate. I heard there was a stranger who came here fairly recently and that he was involved in some sort of fight. Is this him?"

"That's the man Lila waited on about two weeks ago when he first came here but he hasn't been in here since. There was a big fight in front of the hardware store and he got hurt but first he mopped the floor with Benji and the Waiwaiolas and a couple of others. Later, I heard that he was staying out at that lolo Kekipi Meluhia's place.

"What did this Kekipi say about him?" Danny knew the word 'lolo' was not a positive description. Its use had given him one of those 'hmm' moments.

"Oh, she was part of the brawl too. That woman is dangerous. She comes in here pretty regular but I don't really talk to her. Everyone in town is afraid of her except maybe Howard."

"Why are they afraid of her?" asked Danny of the woman who’d rolled her eyes at the thought of this Kekipi Meluhia person.

"Well, like I said, she's crazy and . . . she's a witch."

"Really? A witch? _Here we go again with the Hawaiian folklore stuff_! he thought before asking, "Witch as in nasty personality or witch as in broomsticks and black cats?"

"Maybe a little of both but what I meant was she knows spells and potions and stuff. I've always told Lila to be nice to her just in case but we don't really want to be friends with her."

"Where does this Kekipi live?"

"Not far from here. It's just a mile or so outside of town. If you go see her, you won't tell her I told you anything, will you?"

"No, don’t worry.  We don't want her to put the whammies on anyone." answered Danny with mock seriousness which was apparently lost on Mrs. Wakakua as she cocked her head like a puzzled cocker spaniel.

"Evil curses." He clarified for her.

"Oh, thank you." she breathed in relief at his assurance. "Would you like a piece of pie to go with your coffee?"

"No, thanks. I have someone to see."

With that, he dropped a five-dollar bill on the table and hurried out the door. His heart was actually pounding as the thought of finally catching up with Steve was becoming a reality.

…

Earlier:

He woke in the usual way. The hand, the apple, the baby, the scream, the blade; they'd all been there waiting for him. This time he hadn't been able to wake himself before blood covered everything. This time, he felt it spatter onto his skin, warm and viscous. This time, his own screams woke him to take him away from the fearful images.

Chest heaving, he opened his eyes to find Kip and Howard standing at the doorway of the small room.

By the weak morning light that filtered through the curtains, it looked to be barely dawn and their forms were partially backlit by the yellow light that spilled from the kitchen. They looked . . . frightened.

 

Kip hadn't ever looked frightened by his waking from nightmares before; only concerned. What had he done to frighten them?

He quickly sat up; the vividly sanguine remembrances of his nightmare dissipating into the dawn. "Uh, hi." he said to the two who continued to stare silently at him. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

Kip approached him slowly. The worried/frightened look hadn't left her face.

"You don't remember?" she asked as her expression morphed into something else . . . concern? No. Sadness.

"Remember?" he croaked out through a dry throat.  Totally confused, his stomach tightened in dread as he asked, "Remember what?"

"Do you remember what happened last night?" said Howard who came forward to stand protectively next to Kip.

Now he felt his chest beginning to constrict as well.  _Oh God._

Suddenly feeling as though he'd been encased in ice, his voice rose in panic as he asked again, "What's wrong? Is something wrong?!"

Kip could see the confusion on his face. Her heart felt leaden. She put her hand on Howard's arm then moved past him toward Steve.

Howard had wanted to keep her from approaching the stricken looking man but Kip's touch was her signal to stop him from interfering. The hardware clerk could only give a hard look to the one sitting before them.

 _What the hell?_ thought Steve as his ears began to buzz and he felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

Kip approached him like she would a frightened animal.  Slowly and carefully she sat on the edge of the mattress as he continued to stare at her; eyes huge and uncertain, looking as though he barely dared breathe.

Her own eyes skimmed the length of his body and he looked downward to follow her gaze. He was still wearing his work clothes . . . clothes now stiff with dried blood. It looked as though he'd been soaked in it.

He knew it wasn't his.

Now he felt hot and cold at the same time as he fought down rising nausea. _Who have I hurt?_  played in an endless loop in his head.  Dizzy, he scrambled away from Kip to lurch off the bed and stand on the other side of it.  She stood as well to go after him.

Their movements startled Howard into placing his body between her and her handyman; blocking her attempt to reach him.

"Howard, it's okay. Ua Kane won't hurt me." she assured her boyfriend.

"You don't know what he'll do, Kip. Look at him. He's covered in blood from head to foot. You have no idea what he's capable of."

"Howard . . . I would . . . I mean . . . I would never hurt Kip or you. Never!" stammered the tall man. "Please, tell me what happened! Why are you afraid of me!? What's wrong!?"

"You went after whoever shot at you last night. Do you remember?" asked Kip quietly.

"Someone shot at me?" he rasped, starting to tremble with a sudden flood of adrenaline. The bright bolts of cloth on the storage shelves that lined the room seemed to swirl around him in dizzying flashes of fuchsias and yellows and blues. He grabbed onto one of the turned wooden bedposts to steady himself.

"You followed them into the forest. You didn't come back until after three A.M. and, when you did, you passed-out right after you walked in the door. We couldn't get you to wake up so we carried you in here." said Howard, a new hardness in his voice.

"I . . . I don't remember. I went out to feed the cow . . . the dog was barking at something . . ."

"Benji Pakele and the boy named Rabbit, two of that bunch that tried to rough you up a couple weeks ago, didn't come home last night. We think they were the ones who shot at you. Do you know where they are?" asked Howard, tone growing ever more steely.

Steve stared silently back. He had no answer for him.

"They killed the cow, they killed Marilyn." said Kip, thinking perhaps it would serve to jog his memory. Her dark eyes searched his face hoping for an answer and praying it would be one they could live with.

Strangely, he felt he should tell Kip that he was sorry about Marilyn but thoughts of what he may have done, like errant surges of electricity, flashed through his mind; all but shorting-out its circuitry. _Do they think I had something to do with those punks disappearing?_   Then, answering his own question he concluded, _Of course they do. Why wouldn't they?_ He couldn't even tell them he hadn't.

Once again he looked down at his bloodstained clothes, then he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Face now expressionless, he said dully, "Do what you have to do Howard." Then he walked out of the room and across the kitchen to go out the back door.

He strode toward the pasture; past the body of the cow that still lay in it; past the old dog that waited for him; past the waving blades of wild grass, whose tops glowed in the slanted light of a new dawn.

He paused to gaze at the sun that had risen in an achingly clear sky; it's rays beginning to warm the ground and heat the air. But all he felt was cold.

He arrived at the small tree in the middle of the pasture where he sat down without feeling the ground beneath him. He would wait here for them to come for him.

…..

Two hours later:

The blonde man walked toward the small cottage. He could see from a distance that someone had begun to paint its peeling exterior. Most of the front porch sported a coat of pristine white. As he came closer; several goats, a dog, some sheep and what seemed enough geese to fill volumes of nursery rhyme books rushed toward him voicing their warnings.

Having never heard of attack goats, he backed toward the road. "Hey! Hey! No! Bad goat!" he yelped as one of the cloven-hoofed animals fearlessly rushed up to him to place its front feet on his shoulders and then proceeded to nibble on his shirt collar. He was glad he hadn't worn a tie.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a one-eared, (make than one-and-a-half eared), rabbit hop toward him as though on a mission.

 _What the hell? Maybe the woman is a witch after all and these are all her familiars._ Frankly, it creeped him out a bit.

For whatever reason, the large dog only stood barking at him from a safe distance. He guessed he was lucky. The goats were bad enough. _Hey, where'd that rabbit go?_

"Knock it off dammit!" he yelled at the goat who'd suddenly found his watchband more to its taste. He tried to push it away but the animal stubbornly kept its toothy grip on the leather strap.

Just then, a woman's voice called loudly from the porch. "You little bastards! Leave the man alone! I mean it!"

To Danny's amazement, every creature surrounding him turned to look at the sturdy grey-haired woman who stood on the wooden porch, hands on her hips. If animals could speak, he was sure he would've heard them chorus, 'Oh shit!' as every one of the creatures immediately backed off.

"Jeeze, that was like being mobbed by the Bronx Zoo!" smiled Danny as he brushed himself off and looked up at the woman wearing an oversized Hawaiian shirt that Chin would covet.

"Yeah, sorry about that. They can get a little too enthusiastic in their greetings sometimes. May I help you?"

"Uhh, yes, ma'am." said Danny as he wiped goat slobber off his watchband. "My name is Detective Danny Williams. I'm from Five-0 and I need to ask you a few questions."

"Well, that sounds ominous. You may as well have said 'I'm from the government and I'm here to help'". Looking him over with a critical eye, she said, "Why, pray tell, is Five-0 poking around this neighborhood?"

Danny detected a bit of caution mixed with a smidge of hostility in the woman's tone. From the looks of her wild frizzy hair and baggy denims and adding in the quote about the government, he deduced that she may be some sort of hippy holdover from the sixties, though he wouldn't hold it against her. He'd seen those photos of his parents in the Williams’ family album.

She stood evaluating him for another moment before beckoning him onto the porch. The welcome committee quietly parted to let him through. It reminded him of that scene from the Hitchcock movie when the birds sat silently staring from the rooftops and power lines before they launched their next deadly attack. He hurried up the steps.

Kip pushed open the screen door and ushered him into the small house. He followed her across the compact little living room and into the kitchen.

"Please, have a seat, Detective. Can I get you something to drink? Some tea perhaps?" she asked rather formally; emphasizing the word 'detective' as though the word was unpleasant to even utter.

"No, thank-you ma'am. I just need to ask you a few questions about a recent visitor to this town. I hear that you've had some dealings with him." smiled Danny, hoping to make himself appear as something other than a 'government official’ – which he actually was, mind you.

"Dealings?" she asked. "I haven't had 'dealings' in several years if you're asking about growing pot.” she smiled but he wasn’t sure if she was serious or not.

He was a bit startled at the frank statement but recognized it as an attempt to divert his attention from the matter at hand.

"No, no. Not wanting to know anything about that." he assured the grey haired suspected ex-hippy. “I just need to find my friend.” He took that moment to pull out and unfold the creased and now slightly damp picture of Steve.  He placed it on top of a half-completed puzzle of a boat on a dark ocean that lay on the kitchen table.

Picking it up, she looked at it carefully then pursed her lips as if deciding whether to answer or not.

After a long moment she asked, "Why do you want to find him?" There was no hostility in her question. She sounded genuinely curious but guarded.

"He . . . he's a friend who's gone missing and we're worried about him." stated Danny trying his best not to be irritated by her coyness.

"Who is 'we'?" she asked.

"'We' are his ohana. We all work together and we've been very worried about him since he left . . . uhh, unexpectedly.”

"Does this friend have a name?"

"It's Steve, his name is Steven McGarrett."

Her eyes actually widened at that. She paused with her mouth slightly open before asking her next question.

"Steve McGarrett as in the Governor's Special Task Force McGarrett?" she asked, now wide-eyed.

"Yes, that Steve McGarrett." answered the detective, knowing there was no way he could avoid confirming that for her. The islands’ population wasn’t that big and there weren't that many people with the same name - if any.

Hesitantly, the woman asked, suspicion in her tone. "If you find Steve, what are you going to do?"

Danny was a little surprised by her question. What did she think he was going to do? Ms. Meluhia obviously knows where Steve is.  Now he's sure of it. 

"I'll ask him to come back. He has a home on Oahu. He has a job and he has us."

Kip thought this little blonde man sounded offended by her question. She knew she couldn't keep Ua Kane away from him forever but she needed to know if it would be a good thing for her friend to accompany the detective back to Oahu. Would he want to? Why had he never spoken of them?

"He was here but he left." she answered. "You just missed him."

 


	29. When To Be Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alarmingly unable to stay in the moment, Steve hunts his attackers in the wet, cold, darkness of the forest. Danny feels ever more certain his friend is near after meeting Kip and her menagerie.

**Last night:**

 

They were just ahead of him now. He reached into his pocket to retrieve the box cutter and thumbed the little lever that advanced the blade. He could hear them talking. _Is that English?_

"Brah, that dude's crazy. I knew it wasn't a good idea to do this!"

"Shut up Rabbit. I don't wanna hear your whiny-ass cryin'! You're as bad as Jimmy and Timmy being afraid of that fat old cop."

"Benji, this guy’s not a fat old cop! I saw him run _at_ us instead of the other way! What kind lolo does shit like that? Dude's tatted too. Maybe he broke out of Halawa or someting? Could be a murderer or one’o those meth freaks! He's skinny like that. Those guys all fried their brains and don't know how to be scared’o stuff when they’re tweakin'!"

"Rabbit, don’t be hupo. Even crazy as Kip is, she wouldn't take in a meth addict. Besides," said Benji with an evil grin that was pretty much lost in the darkness, "doesn't your mom have tats?"

"Yeah, but only like a bird or a butterfly or someting' on her shoulder." defended Rabbit. He may not have the Mother of the Year but she was the only one he had.

"Naw, brah, I seen that one on her ass and that other one on her . . . "

"Shut up Benji! You can't talk about my mom like that! I'm gonna kick your 'okole!"

There was the sound of a tussle; twigs snapping and foliage being crashed through along with angry and/or effortful grunts and the dull thud of fist on flesh.

Benji was bigger but Rabbit, (in another connotation of his name), was faster. They thrashed around on the soggy forest floor as their struggle flung wet clumps of rotting vegetation and mud. As their, (mostly ineffective), punches were traded neither of them noticed the man standing at the edge of the little clearing; moonlight reflecting off the blade in his hand.

**. . . . .**

It was after two A.M.  As the sound of Hakoda's ancient vehicle faded into the wet distance Kip looked at Howard; sad resignation on her face.

"I think he's gone this time." she said, not knowing why the disappearance of a man who was nearly a stranger upset her so.

"Maybe he'll be back." said Howard, smoothing his hand gently across her back and giving her what was intended to be a one-armed hug but before he even had time to react, Kip had her face buried against his chest.  She was sobbing.

To say he was startled was an understatement. He'd known Kip for years and had never seen her cry like this. Not even when Joey left, not even when Malu had been killed in that accident during the storm.

Howard himself had been the one to tell her of the death of her beloved husband. He and Malu and a couple others had been out with a backhoe at the edge of town when it happened. They were trying to reinforce the earthen dam that had been keeping the village from being swept away by flash floods that came down from the higher valleys. As the two stood with their shovels near the machine, there was a simultaneous crack and flash. Both had been violently thrown to the ground. Howard had survived but the lightning strike had instantly killed his best friend.

There were no tears even then but he'd never seen someone look so desolate. Only a few months before, via a phone call from the Los Angeles Medical Examiner's office, they'd been told of Joey's death. Malu had related to his friend that Kip didn't even cry when she'd gotten the news. She denied it had ever happened and talked about Joey coming home as soon as he worked out his problems.

Malu had been very worried about his wife. As far as Howard knew, even to this day, she'd never acknowledged the death of her son and still expected him to return to his home on Lanai.

Everyone in town knew of her reaction, (or lack of it), to her son's death. After awhile, they just sort of backed away from the woman who'd been their mainstay in medical emergencies for so many years. The only time they came to her now was in the most dire of circumstances. She'd been abandoned by pretty much everyone except himself and Hakoda. Crazy or not they'd both loved her for many years. Only their respect for Malu had kept them from pursuing their interests. Well, that and the fact that Malu could kick their asses with one hand tied behind his back.

Why was she crying now over someone she'd met barely a month ago? He couldn't do anything but hug her to him as warm tears soaked into the front of his shirt.

**. . . . .**

_What the hell?_ he thought as he stood listening to the commotion. A sudden strobe of lightning lit up the two youths rolling around on the forest floor as they tried their best to beat the crap out of one another.

Dizzy and disoriented, he let the box cutter drop to his side. _These aren't hostiles. This isn't the desert!_

They were just two of the punks from that fight in front of Howard's store. _Fuck!_ Where is he and why is he standing here watching these two imbeciles roll around in the muck? He looked around himself and saw only moonlit forest; its dripping foliage reflecting fragments of cold blue light that leaked through the canopy above.

As Benji managed to gain advantage and straddle his adversary, he caught a glimpse of someone watching them from the shadows. With a squeal of fright, he jumped to his feet and backed away, eyes wide, mouth moving like a goldfish. Rabbit sat up to face his terrified appearing opponent. As he regained his feet he could see that Benji was staring at something behind him.

Whirling to find out what it could be, Rabbit saw his worst nightmare. There stood the tattooed man staring silently. He held something shiny at his side

 _Oh, shit!_ If only they hadn't dropped the rifle in their frantic flight through the forest.

To his credit, Rabbit did not wet himself. Benji wasn't as lucky. The big youth was too distracted at the moment to even feel the warmth that soaked into the front of his pants.

**. . . . .**

**Today - late afternoon:**

 

On the chair next to him sat a one-eyed cat who seemed to be fascinated by every move he made.

"Do you know where he went?" asked the man who accepted the offer of a paper towel to finish wiping goat saliva from his watch. Normally it would have grossed him out but he had other things on his mind at the moment.

"Sorry detective. He left here a couple days ago and didn't say where he was going." replied Kip as she took a sip of tea and smiled sweetly. The little haole didn't look like a bad sort but if Ua Kane hadn't wanted to be found . . . well she wouldn't spill any information until she had a chance to talk to her friend. She'd do her best to keep him out of sight for now.

**. . . . .**

He knew she was lying. Though the old woman didn't seem a bad sort, maybe just a little eccentric, she was definitely concealing something. Steve still had to be around somewhere. Danny knew he'd just have to be patient and bide his time. She couldn't hide him forever.

"How did he seem when he left?" he asked as he took a sip of the hot tea she'd finally talked him into. _No doubt to make up for the overly enthusiastic greeting committee,_ he thought.

"What do you mean?" she asked, a line forming between her dark eyes.

"His state of mind; was he upset or preoccupied; that kinda thing."

Kip's mind flashed to her last contact with the tall man. 'preoccupied' wasn't even close. His eyes had been dull and vacant. He looked like he'd given up . . . on everything.

"He was a little quiet maybe but he wasn't very talkative to begin with." she fudged.

"Yeah, that sounds like my friend." confirmed Danny as he took a sip of the herbal tea. It was a little bitter but it was relaxing.  "Steve needs to talk about . . . things . . . but I don't know if he ever will."

Kip actually felt bad for the man who sat across from her. She'd caught the despair in the detective's voice. He looked exhausted as well.

"Maybe he'll come back on his own." she offered, "Maybe he's just not ready to go home yet."

Danny looked up from the stoneware cup he'd been absently staring into, startled by his lapse in attention. The old woman's dark eyes looked kind and her face reflected only sympathy. _She's still lying though_.

"Maybe" he said tiredly. "If you see him, please tell him his ohana misses him and wants him to come home. If he doesn't want to talk – that's fine; we won't make him. We just want him to be safe."

Now, Kip felt _really_ bad. The haole cop looked so sincere and . . . so sad. She knew how it felt to wait for someone to come home; someone who was lost; someone who'd been damaged like the old dog. Sometimes trust was almost a foreign concept for those creatures. She knew very well about such things.

"Thanks for the tea." said Danny as he pushed back the old wooden chair and stood up, his back popping loudly as the vertebra realigned. Looking toward the window over the sink, he could see that it had started raining again. _Crap!_ His shoes were just finally beginning to dry out.

"Would you know where I can get a ride to the other side of the island? It doesn't look like I'm going to be leaving any time soon. At least not until I find Steve."

"There aren't any taxis here." she replied, "But you can probably get Howard over at the hardware store to give you a lift after he closes for the day. Just give him a couple bucks for gas." Standing to go toward the ancient, pink, rotary-dial phone in the living room, she called over her shoulder, "I'll contact him. Be right back."

While he waited, he looked down at the puzzle that covered nearly half the table. It would be a hard one to assemble. Most of the pieces had to be nearly the same color; either parts of dark sky or dark ocean. The boat portion had already been completed.

It was obvious there'd been two different assemblers who sat on opposite sides of the table. One side had a chaotic pile of unsorted pieces while the other side had smaller piles sorted by subtle shades of color and pattern. Someone with a thorough and analytical mind, (not to mention a very strong OCD streak), had sorted those.

He smiled . . . _Not leaving yet . . . I can wait her out._

"Howard says he'd be happy to give you a ride." said Kip as she bustled back into the room. "You can take my umbrella. Just leave it with him; he'll bring it back to me."

She handed him the umbrella; thankfully a plain one. It wasn't patterned like her shirt or something like Gracie's Hello Kitty umbrella that matched her pink and white lunchbox. _That stupid cat had its face on everything._ He idly wondered if there was Hello Kitty toilet paper too.

"Thank you for your hospitality Mrs. Maluhia." he smiled.

"Just call me Kip, everyone else does." she smiled back. In spite of this haole being _'the man'_ , she liked him. He must be a good friend to Ua Kane if he'd come all the way out here.

 _We should all have friends like that_ , she thought, _people willing to travel miles to find us when we're lost._

They'd almost gotten to the front door when she exclaimed, "Oh, hang on! I have some rain boots that might fit you. Those nice shoes are going to be ruined if you have to walk back to town through all this mud."

Before he could even say anything, she was off to what he assumed was the bedroom and he could hear things being tossed about in her search. Her voice muffled as though she had her head in a closet, he heard her muttering, "I know they're in here somewhere."

As he waited, he looked around the small living room. From the woman's décor, a Hello Kitty umbrella wasn't out of the realm of possibility. Riotously bright Hawaiian print drapes and lime and turquoise walls almost made him squint. The little house seemed cluttered and chaotic but, unlike his own rat-hole of an apartment, there was actually no dust to be seen. He noted that the only neatly arranged part of it was a display of family photos on a bookshelf by the door. He stepped closer to pick up one of the framed images - a picture of a man in uniform. After examining it he set it down where he found it, beside the Plexiglas box holding what looked to be a purple heart and a couple of ribbons that were very like the ones displayed in Steve's office. He picked up the other frame beside it; another formal portrait of someone in uniform. He could tell the two images had been taken many years apart.

Out of one smiled a sturdy looking man with dark skin and a patch over one eye. The other showed a slightly lighter skinned young man – a boy really - with even features and a bright smile. He assumed they were father and son. The boy looked more like Kip.

**. . . . .**

**Last night:**

 

"Don't kill us! Please!" begged Rabbit in a panicked voice.

"Not gonna kill you. What are you doing here?" said the low quiet voice from the shadows at the edge of the tiny clearing.

"We didn't mean it!" he babbled, "I mean Benji didn't mean it. He wasn't even aiming at you. He just wanted to scare Kip into making you go away. Honest!"

Benji only stood mutely frozen beside Rabbit; the stain on the front of his pants remarkably visible under the cold light in the clearing.

They stood staring at one another, hunter and hunted. Both frightened but for very different reasons.

"Give me the knife." ordered the tall man. When neither youth moved to obey, he said in a loud growl, "Now!"

Benji looked about to pass-out. Rabbit quickly unsheathed the knife that hung from his comrade's belt and with shaking hands extended it hilt-first to the frightening apparition.

"Do you know where we are?" asked the apparition.

"Uhh yeah, we're just north of town. It's only about a twenty minute walk in the daylight." answered Rabbit, no less frightened but puzzled why the man didn't recognize where they were. The guy wasn't from around here but still . . .

"Lead us there." he growled again.

"Ookay. Whatever you want, brah." Turning to his still frozen friend Rabbit said, “Come on Benji.” The only response he got was a blank stare. _Great, two zombies_ , thought the orthodontically challenged youth as he grabbed the oaf's arm and started off in the direction of the village.

**. . . . .**

**Today:**

 

Danny trudged back to town from Kip's cottage. It seemed farther than his trip out there. He'd had to skirt around several seemingly ocean-wide pools in the rutted dirt/mud road.

Thankfully, the galoshes were only a little too big and though his feet slipped around in them, he knew he was glad to have them. His budget certainly wouldn't allow for another replacement of loafers. He'd already wrecked two pair in the last few months by following his fearless leader into whatever dire situation he'd flung himself into.

As he trudged along he dejectedly wondered what the future held for his friend; if Steve would ever overcome his demons, if he could ever recover enough to helm Five-0 once again. _Of_ _course he will . . . he's Steve,_ he told himself, _the most determined guy I’ve ever met. This is just temporary._

Somehow managing to banish his doubt as foolish - that Steve would never recover and get back to work - Danny felt a little better after the self-administered pep talk.  He hopped another gargantuan puddle and looked up somewhat surprised to find he'd reached the edge of town.

The hardware store was easy to locate. There actually wasn't any way to miss it. There were only eight or nine businesses on the street. From where he stood, he could make out the coffee shop, a small grocery store, a feed store, and a tractor/machinery repair shop. There were a few smaller shops that didn't so obviously exhibit their purpose without closer inspection.

He hopped up onto the wooden sidewalk and after only a few more steps entered the compact hardware store. Near the door was a balding man standing behind the register.  He was putting packets of screws and hinges into a bag for a customer.

The clerk looked up and smiled, "You must be Detective Williams?" he said as if there was any doubt the blonde stranger in the long sleeved shirt and dress slacks could be any other.

After smiling and waving his customer on his way, Howard came from behind the counter to shake his hand in greeting. "Just let me close up and we can leave." he said.

"It's not five yet," replied Danny after glancing at his recently slobbered on wristwatch, "You don't have to lose business because of me."

"No, it's okay. Pretty much everyone in town has been in here already today. Seems everybody's found an excuse to come in and _browse._ " laughed Howard.

"Why's that?" asked the detective, ears tuning-in on possibly useful information.

"Oh, local gossip."

"What's gone on here in this teeming metropolis lately that's got everyone's attention?" asked Danny, hoping it only sounded like a casual question.

"Nothing much really. Just a couple of local kids stayed out all night in the rainforest and got everyone worried. Well, everyone but their parents anyway. Those little punks have never had much supervision and it shows."

"Sad." opined Danny as he began to fiddle curiously with a screwdriver/ratchet/flashlight thingy in a display on the counter.  There was a sign over the display stating they were $6.95 each. The devices were actually pretty neat. If he had any extra cash, (which he seriously doubted), he'd buy one before he leaves here.

"Stupid kids had the misfortune to run into a wild boar, probably the same one that tried to eat Houdini."

"Houdini?"

"Uhh . . . Kip's rabbit. Got chewed up last time he escaped and lost most of one ear. Anyway, the kids staggered back into town this morning covered in blood; some of it theirs and some of it the pig's."

"Did they kill it?" asked Danny, horrified that such creatures even existed in the same state as his Gracie.

"Uhh, don't umm . . . don't know for sure." stammered Howard, looking somewhat uncomfortable as though he regretted relating the story in the first place.

"Exciting stuff." said Danny, not missing the man's discomfort.

"Yup, those critters can be really dangerous."

 _Watch goats, wild boars . . . what's next, flying monkeys?_ thought the detective with a small shudder. He remembered Steve's and Chin's tales of the wild pigs that roamed the islands. He'd thought they were only trying to scare an ignorant newcomer but maybe not.

"How bad were they hurt?" he asked trying to put the potential danger to his baby out of his mind.

"Not too bad. Benji had a couple deep cuts on his head and face and another couple on his legs. He bled like a stuck pig though. Rabbit . . . uhh Keanu, only had some minor scrapes. They looked scared shitless." smiled Howard

"Bet they won't wander off again for a while."

"Wouldn't count on it. Those little punks aren't the sharpest tools in the shed and stupidity has a pretty long shelf life." laughed Howard.

"Well, lucky beats stupid I suppose. At least now they'll know when to be afraid."

 


	30. Resistance is Futile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This jumps back and forth a bit but it seemed the best way to tell the story. I hope it's not too hard to follow. Thanks for reading.

 

**Last night:**

  
They'd only made it as far as being able to see the lights of the village when it attacked.

  
Steve whirled when he heard it explode out of the foliage with a sound somewhere between a fierce squeal and a growl. The huge boar knocked him aside like a discarded ragdoll and aimed straight for Benji and Rabbit. With a squeal of his own, Benji turned to run. Rabbit, as though rocket propelled, managed to spring upward to grab the low branch of a kamani tree that overhung their path.

Thrown into the thick undergrowth, Steve's breath left his lungs in a whoosh as he hit the muddy ground. Lying dazed, he could hear loud screaming as one of the boys was attacked. Still gasping for air he came to his knees, grasped the heavy handle of the K-Bar he'd stuck in his belt, and lunged toward the animal doing its best to dispatch its victim.

Rabbit sat frozen on his serendipitous perch as he watched the boar barrel into his friend like a porcine freight train. He'd seen the crazy guy get knocked ass-over-teakettle into the brush and was surprised when he'd sprung back up with the big knife in his hand and rushed the enraged boar that seemed to be locked on target - said target being the unfortunate Benji.

The husky youth screamed as he was impacted by the thick bony skull of the enraged animal then screamed louder still as its sharp tusks raked over him. Steve felt the blade skitter over the boar's bristled hide. Though the heavy knife cut deep enough to cause significant bleeding, he was unsuccessful in deterring the fearsome creature. As he stabbed at it again and again, it didn't seem fazed by his assault.

Tiring despite the rush of adrenaline that fueled him, Steve was wheezing loudly. He’d exhausted every last bit of his reserves in what seemed a futile battle against a three-hundred pound embodiment of murderous ferocity. Then, with a glow of malevolence in its small eyes, the boar swiftly swung around after abandoning its original target. Rage refocused on the man who’d been slashing away at him, it charged . . .

 

**Today:**

Danny climbed into the battered pickup as Howard turned the key. It's engine came to life with a smooth purr. The hardware man noted the surprised look on the haole's face and smiled. "Ua Kane helped me get this old wreck running like a top. He's pretty handy to have around."

"Ua Kane?" asked Danny

"Uh huh, that's what Kip calls him. It means Rain Man."

"You're talking about the guy who showed up here a few weeks ago? Now I'm not sure if he’s the one I’ve been looking for because for the last year and half Steve's been trying to get his old man's Marquis to run for more than ten minutes at a time. Maybe we're not talking about the same guy."

"No, it's him according to Kip. She's sure it's the same guy. She's just not sure about you yet."

Danny wasn't really surprised by Howard's statement and didn't reply. He knew the woman was being protective. Even though it was frustrating, he guessed it was a good thing his friend had someone looking out for him.

The next few minutes of the drive through the sparsely populated central part of the island were silent. Danny wanted to ask Howard more of what he knew of 'Ua Kane' but was pretty sure the guy wouldn't say anything until he was ready – if ever. Then, without warning, the old truck’s driver suddenly swerved to pull off to the side of the road.

This was unexpected and, kind eyes or not, Danny's hand started to go toward the gun clipped to his belt.

Noting the haole's move toward his weapon, Howard regarded him with amusement; a smile coming to his tanned face. Cutting the engine, he sat evaluating the man beside him on the cracked leather bench-style seat. There were dark circles under the blonde's eyes, fatigue and worry shown by creases in his forehead, and more than a hint of anxiety he tried but failed to conceal.

The shopkeeper scrunched his brows into a thoughtful expression and pursed his lips before speaking. "Kip said you're only looking for this guy because he's a friend and you're worried about him?"

"Yeah." breathed Danny as he relaxed his vigilance to run both hands along the sides of his hair in an attempt to smooth back strands that had lost their shellacked hold in the dampness. "He's got us really worried. He took off without saying where he was going. We've been looking for him since."

"What did he do?"

"You mean what kind of work did he do? He was a cop, still is, if that's what you're asking."

"No, what did he do that's making him run?" asked Howard, hoping the answer wouldn't reveal anything that could put Kip in danger.

"Look, Howard . . .”, replied the detective as he unconsciously displayed anxiety by brushing a hand once again through his hair, "He didn't do anything illegal and whatever harm he's caused - if he's caused any – wasn't intentional. He just . . . has a few problems to work out."

Danny searched the older man's face for any sign of hostility but saw only worry and concern on the lined countenance. "He's in the Naval Reserves. He’d just come back from deployment and was really . . . stressed. He just sort of took off on his own one day and we haven't seen him since."

"I see." said Howard noncommittally. Early this morning, it had finally dawning on him what Kip saw in the guy; why she was being so protective. Why hadn't he seen it before? I'm such an idiot! he'd thought.

Then, knowing there'd probably be hell to pay from Kip, he decided to come clean - at least somewhat. This poor haole looked to be at the end of his rope and it wasn't fair to keep him in the dark if he was such a good friend to Ua Kane. It wasn't fair to either of them. He’d already figured that Kip had known or intuited something about the tall man she hadn't told him. Something he knew had to deeply affect her and she wasn't yet willing to give this latest rescued creature back to his ohana.

"Detective, I know you're very worried about your friend. He must be very special to deserve such loyalty."

"Yes, he is." answered Danny with utter sincerity. The tanned face regarding him so seriously looked to be a mix of ethnicities; not fully a local but not a haole either. Danny realized in his focus on finding Steve, he'd neglected to even ask Howard's last name. People on the islands, Chin Ho Kelly for example, were often of mixed ancestry and last names weren't always the definitive answer to knowing what’s in the mix. Very different from Newark, thought the detective. There weren't that many people there with Asian features and Irish surnames that he knew of. Then, there was Max Bergman . . .

"I know Kip saw something in him that I didn't recognize. I only saw a drifter who had no business here. She saw someone who belonged. I don't know how, but she's kind of freaky that way. I know the locals call her a witch but she's just very, very, perceptive. She knows he's a good guy. At first I doubted it myself. When I finally came to the same conclusion I realized the man's been hard-used and its badly affected him. To be honest Detective Williams, I don't think leaving here right now is a good idea. It might make you feel better but I don't think it will do him any good. I think maybe he needs Kip right now and I think maybe she needs him."

"So, you're not going to tell me where he is?" asked Danny face hardening in frustration.

"I can't. I don't think he wants to go back yet." said Howard actually looking apologetic.

Danny didn't have a reply. Of course Steve didn't want to return to Oahu but he had to get help. There isn't anything here that will get him back on his feet. There isn't anything that will help him cope with whatever he'd seen that pushed him over the edge. He had to convince them, (Kip in particular), that Steve needed to return to his ohana before he could fully heal.

"Look, Howard. I know he probably doesn't want to go home but he needs to. I know you people have helped and I sincerely thank you for that. I know that you all have only the best intentions but Steve needs to get professional help. He needs to come home to do that so he get on with his life and get back to work."

Howard didn't say anything. He just looked at Danny with his kind, sad eyes and seemed to be thinking something over. Finally sighing deeply, he said "I'll talk to Kip. Give me a call in the morning."

"Thank you." replied Danny with utter sincerity . . . and relief.

 

**Last night:**

  
The _ferocious_ animal rushed at him again; its hooves digging into the soft ground, snout casting frothy spittle mixed with blood as its deadly tusks sought to annihilate its opponent.

With the move of a bullfighter, Steve stepped aside at the last millisecond and with both hands drove the knife in up to its haft between the boar's shoulder blades. The animal seemed to pause in mid-charge, its momentum carrying it another few feet before it collapsed in its tracks. A thud shook the muddy ground as its huge bulk came to rest.

His respiration now fully composed of wheezing gasps, Steve cautiously moved toward the beast to make sure it was truly finished before he turned toward the youth who was groaning in pain on the ground not far away.

"Is it dead brah?" asked the boy still perched in the tree.

"Yeah, it's dead. Get down here and help your friend." panted Steve still trying to regain his breath.

Rabbit obediently dropped to the ground and hurried toward his friend. "Shit!" he murmured as he saw the blood covering Benji's face and head. His legs didn't look too good either.

"Take off your shirt and tear strips to make bandages." ordered the tall man.

Rabbit looked up at him and was startled to see that he too seemed to be covered in blood. "You need bandages too?" he timidly asked, appalled at the crimson apparition. _Shit! The guy really does look like someone from a horror movie!_

"Not my blood." was the clipped answer as Steve momentarily squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to pass-out or allow his stomach to give up whatever was in it.

  
Rabbit's rudimentary knowledge of first aid told him that even slight cuts on your head could bleed quite a bit. His friend's legs had seemed to take quite a beating too. There were several deep lacerations there as well that needed to be bandaged. Benji had stopped moaning and had grown quiet.  "I think he might be dead, brah!" he said in alarm.

The tall man leaned over to check the pulse point beneath Benji's slack jaw. "No, just unconscious." he said, "But we have to get him to some help. You done with those bandages?"

"Yeah, almost." answered Rabbit, brow knitted and the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on wrapping the strip of cloth around his friend's deeply lacerated thigh.

As soon as the last of the bandages was tied-off, the tall man motioned to Rabbit to assist him in getting his friend at least somewhat more upright. With much pushing and pulling, they'd accomplished getting the bulky youth into a sitting position. With Rabbit bracing his friend from behind, Steve bent down to pick him up. Grunting with effort he lifted Benji into a fireman's carry and set wordlessly off down the trail toward the village. The uninjured youth followed meekly behind, still not quite sure what to think of the man carrying his groaning burden down the hill. To say that Rabbit was freaked-out was an understatement.

**. . . . . . . .**

He could smell the blood that had seeped into his clothing. The man he carried was covered in it; its strong metallic scent mixed with that of urine.

The bright moonlight that shone down on them as they emerged from the trees abruptly became sunlight. He could feel it glaring down on him; could feel it scorching through his clothing.

Of the team of six, they were the last two. Screwed from the git, they’d been made before they'd even left base. Bad intel had made them unwitting sacrifices.

For a while Heidegger had been groaning but now he was silent.

He blinked upward at the bleached sky as flaming orb suspended in it burned into his retinas. He had to get Heidegger to a place where he could stop and do a better job of patching him up before he bled out. He staggered on under his load. There had to be a cave around here somewhere.

They’d been walking for so long now. When they'd last stopped; sweating and flushed with fever the wounded man had groaned "Kill me or at least give me a gun to do it myself. I'm not gonna be taken by those bastards!"

"I'm not killing you and I'm sure as hell not leaving you. Don't even think about it!" he answered tiredly, "We're getting out of here."

"Get real you crazy bastard." chuffed Heidegger, "I know I'm not going home. I'm shot to hell. I can't even feel anything below my waist. I think maybe I even pissed myself."

"Just shut up Heidegger. I'm getting us out of here."

"You're a fool if you think we're getting out of this one, Doggie."

He wasn't going to leave him. He was going to get them out of here. He just had to keep walking.

  
**. . . . . . . .**

Rabbit could hear the tall man muttering something like he was having a conversation but Benji was again silent and dangling limply over his shoulder. Okay so the haole really is lolo. Not surprising. A guy who runs toward someone shooting at him and then rescues the ass of that same person by charging at a hehena wild boar is definitely crazy. Not that he's not grateful mind you 'cause if they'd been alone when the boar had attacked . . . well . . .

Suddenly, the small caravan came to a halt. There were voices coming from down the hill.

His precariously balanced load nearly toppling him, the tall man had stopped to listen. "Keanu! Benji!" he heard. "Where are you guys?" He could see lights moving up the hill. Who are they? When did it get dark?

"Keanu! Where are you! Your mom wants you to come home! She's worried!" Fear now all but forgotten, Rabbit hurried to stand in front of the man carrying his friend to say,"Brah! That's my ohana! They're looking for us!"

"Ohana?" repeated the dazed looking man; Benji still slung over his shoulder.

The injured youth was now groaning loudly. The shouting from down the hill must have registered in his barely there consciousness.

"Yeah, brah. You can put Benji down now. He's a mess but they'll carry him from here. You don't look so good either. Maybe you should sit down."

"Okay, yeah . . . they'll come get him . . . " wheezed the tall man looking confused as he swayed under his burden. Rabbit had thought maybe he'd been hurt too but with all the blood who could tell? He helped lower Benji to the ground.

"It's okay brah, they'll take you guys to the hospital on Molokai." he told the blood-covered and heavily breathing man.

"Hospital?! No! No hospital!" loudly exclaimed the stranger in panic.

 _What the fuck?_   thought Rabbit as he backed away startled by the strong reaction. "Brah! Chill! They'll take care of you. Just sit."

"Hospital?" was the dazedly repeated word as the blood covered man swayed unsteadily.

"Uncle Apona!" Rabbit turned to yell down the hillside in reply to one whose voice he recognized. "Over here!"

"No! Not again! No!" wheezed out the stranger who looked about ready to collapse before him.

"Brah, they're coming for us. Sit down before you . . . " before he could even finish the sentence the man had turned to disappear back into the forest.

**. . . . . . . .**

Breathing labored, he ran on wobbly legs as he pushed his way into the denser part of the forest.  Foliage slapped wetly against his face and body as he fled in panic.  Despite his exhaustion, the thoughts on an endless loop in his head provided the fuel for flight.   _I'm not going back!  I can't go back!  They're all dead_. . . _all the blood . . . they're all dead . . . they shouldn't be screaming . . ._

But he could still hear them.

**. . . . . . . .**

Announced by a clap of thunder and flashes of lightning, it was as if the gates of Hell had opened and the Devil himself had emerged to appear before them.  Kip and Howard stared wide-eyed at the figure standing at the doorway.  

He stood for a long breathless minute before his eyes suddenly rolled back in his head and he crumpled into a soggy heap on the linoleum.

Having abruptly regained her composure, Kip sprang into action.  She reached him in a stride and bent to feel for a pulse.  His skin was cold but the rhythm felt under her fingertips was nearly at hummingbird speed. 

“What the hell!?” exclaimed Howard beside her as he looked down at the young man lying pale and still at their feet.

“That's where he looks like he’s been.” replied Kip as she straightened.  "Help me get him to bed." she ordered.

Between the two of them they managed to carry him to the bed in the storage room.  Kip started to unbutton his soggy shirt but stopped when she realized that the dark wetness of his clothing wasn't just water.  He looked as though he'd bathed in blood.  She gasped as she pulled away her hands.  They were coated in crimson.

“Stay away from him for now, Kip.” warned Howard, “He just looks like maybe he’s just passed-out from exhaustion."

"I have to find out if he's hurt." replied Kip, As she resumed her task of unbuttoning his shirt to examine him for a wound that would explain the state of his appearance.  But she discovered no such injury.  The blood wasn't his.

Howard stood guard beside her.  Ready to spring into action should he wake and become violent.  "You need to stay away from him for now, Kip." he warned.

"He won't hurt me." she replied as she placed her hand on his clammy forehead.

"You don't know that!  You don't know what he's done!  Look at him!  You need to keep your distance until he wakes up and explains why he's soaked in blood!" said Howard, a man who seldom if ever had raised his voice.

This time when her guardian tugged her away Kip didn't resist.

 

  
**Today at dawn:**

They stared at the door he'd just exited.

What now? What were they to believe? With the report of the missing boys; knowing it was likely the very same who'd shot at their friend and killed Marilyn . . . with all that blood on his clothing . . .

 _What now?_ thought Kip.  They were both still in shock. The rain had probably even washed some of it away but Ua Kane still looked as though he'd nearly bathed in blood.   _What now?_

"Howard! Howard!" she repeated to get his attention. "Is there someplace you can take him? How about that old place your uncle used to live in? It’s not too far from here, right?"

"Kip! Did you even look at the guy? We still don't know what he did. If  all that blood isn't his, then whose is it?"

"He wouldn't do anything to harm anyone - at least not anyone who didn't deserve it."

Howard thought the woman herself didn't even look all that sure of her statement. "Kip, even if he hurt someone who _did_ deserve what was coming to them, it's still illegal to kill people! We have to turn him in!"

"No!"

"Kip, he's not Joey! You can't save him!"

"I'm gonna try!" she shouted, tears shining in desperate eyes.

They argued in the middle of the dawn lit kitchen, locked in standoff.

The hardware man already knew she wouldn’t be dissuaded. Kip had determined to put everything she had into salvaging the wreck of a human being who'd wandered into her life. She'd never give up her campaign to save him.

Closing his eyes he nodded in reluctant agreement. "Help me get him back to my place then.  After he cleans up I'll take him to Uncle Richard's house.  Maybe after he's had something to eat and some time to rest he can explain what happened.

Kip smiled at him in approval for seeing it 'her' way.

As he followed her out the door he cursed himself for giving-in but sometimes dealing with Kip was near to impossible.  He's reminded of that line in one of his favorite TV shows: 'Resistance is futile'.

**. . . . . . . .**

  
He watched as they came to get him. The small sturdy figure and the taller stooped one walked through the pasture lit by early morning light. The slanting golden rays shone through the tops of the wild grass making it look as though they were crossing a glowing ocean.  It was actually peaceful.

Peace is all he desires; not half-remembered scenes of carnage or screams of the dying that fade into the night as he wakes from yet another visit to Hell . . . no memories of the lifeless eyes of the dead.

It’s all he’s longed for.  It's all he's wanted this long time.

He’s going to be locked up again. He knows he should be. It's what they have to do with killers - at least in the normal world. But his world hadn't been normal for so long. Killing was what he’d been trained for. It certainly seems to be what he's was good at.  The line between life and death, good and evil, had been crossed so many times he couldn't tell which world he belonged in anymore.

But whatever happens it doesn’t matter now. Nothing does.

He didn't even look up as they came to a stop before him. He would just go along with whatever they wanted.  Nothing would change. Nothing anyone could do would change the fact that he didn't belong here; that he didn't belong anywhere.

"Ua Kane, you have to get up from there. Howard is going to take you some place safe." he heard Kip say from where she stood above him.

"I know" he answered in a flat voice but didn't move from where he sat leaning against the trunk of the lone spindly tree. He would have to break the promise he’d made to himself - that he’d never be locked up again. He knows that Howard is going to take him to the authorities.  This time there'd be no attempt to escape. He'd stupidly fooled himself into thinking he could be among the living - that they were safe from him.  But proof that they weren't had coated his skin and stained and stiffened the clothing he wore.

It was time to get it over with before Danny could find him. It wouldn't be fair to his best friend, his brother, if he were to be found only to be lost again so quickly. He'd go along with Howard for now. Then he'd find a way to make the pain stop once and for all.

Kip gently touched her friend’s shoulder. She could feel him flinch but he didn’t pull away.  Howard offered his hand to help him stand; their eyes locked for a moment before he was pulled to his feet.  The older man's held determination.

Placing herself before him Kip gently put her hands on either side of his face and said "We're going to sort this out. We're going to help you."

“I’m sorry, Kip.” he whispered so softly that she could barely hear him.

Once again, her heart was broken. Once again, she saw a young man locked in darkness; a prisoner of his past, of a place he'd never left. Once again, she was desperate to help someone she cared for try escape it.  And, once again, she was utterly terrified she'd fail.

"Go with Howard." she said. "He's going to take you somewhere you can wait until we get this straightened out. It'll all be okay. Don't worry, Stevie."

He saw kindness and concern in her dark eyes but there was something else there too.  Was it fear?  Maybe she should be afraid of him. He's certainly afraid of himself.  As Howard took his arm to lead him down the sloping pasture toward the old truck, it didn't even register that Kip had called him by his given name.


	31. Maybe a Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny and Kip play cat and mouse while Steve sinks further into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As noted earlier this is a cleaned-up version of a story posted a few years ago on another site. Be aware that there will be a very strong warning for the next chapter. The subject matter may not be for everyone.

**This morning:**

Steve allowed himself to be shepherded to Howard's pickup. He sat quietly staring into his lap as Kip leaned into the window to give him a bundle of clothing. "Here" she said, "You have to change those clothes before someone sees you." When he didn't reach for it or say anything she just tossed it next to him onto the seat.

There was nothing to say. He'd killed somebody - it wasn't in the line of duty, it wasn't to save anyone, it had nothing to do with being a cop. He thought he couldn't fuck-up his life any more than he already had but . . . guess what.  And who had he killed? Friend or foe? He couldn't even remember.

For now, he'd go along with whatever they wanted until he could stop it. They wouldn't be okay with it but it had to be done.

Kip stood watching the old truck pull away and turn right onto the dirt road. Howard was taking the back way to his place otherwise he'd have to go through town to get there.

There'd been no time for conversation or goodbyes. Hakoda or maybe someone he'd called in from one of the other islands would surely be here any minute. They had to take Ua Kane to the cabin deeper in the woods then maybe they'd have time to find a way to sort this out.

She knew in her heart that he wouldn't survive being locked up. There was no way a spirit as restless and unsettled as his could endure confinement. Her husband had been that way and maybe her son too. Of course, Joey had chosen his own kind of escape.

**. . . . . . . .**

Flashes of sunlight alternated with shadows that played across his closed lids as the ancient Chevy bounced along the dirt road that cut through the forest. Vegetation was less dense on this side of town.  The trees in this dryland forest are taller and sparser; resembling eucalyptus that are interspersed with black acacia. It was very different from the thicker jungle-like growth on the seaward side of the village.

Was this a bad dream? There’d been so many of those these nights _ and  _ days. Where did they end and reality begin? Once again, his head filled with swirling thoughts and visions over which he had no rule. It was like watching television when someone else had control of the remote. Nothing seemed to stay in his mind for long before another and even more frightening thought took its place. He had no anchor. He was a danger to his ohana.  _ Hell, he was a danger to everyone. _

Lost in his own thoughts, Howard said nothing as he steered his way toward his home _. What were they going to do with him? Could they keep him hidden until they_ _found out what happened last night and then try to devise a way out of it? What if he really had killed those two idiots? What would happen if Kip couldn't save this frighteningly damaged man? What would it do to her if she failed?_

**. . . . . . . .**

She busied herself cleaning up the blood stained bedding and mopping the watery red splats off the floor. She’d watched those forensic investigation TV shows.  Everything had to be washed with bleach or disposed of and then she had to get rid of the bleach smell. They were sure to come looking any minute now.

Ua Kane had to be the number one suspect in the disappearance of those two kids. That altercation in front of Howard's store and the very fact that he was a stranger were going to point anyone investigating this straight to him, In such a small population there are no secrets.

What had she gotten herself into? What if he had killed those kids?

Blowing a stray curl off her forehead she once again came upright to wring out the soapy rag. Red water cascaded into the bucket next to where she knelt.  _ He hadn't,  _ she decided _ , He couldn't. _

**. . . . . . .**

Howard parked the old truck under the trees behind the house and shut off the engine. He waited for the tall man to react to the arrival at their destination but he only sat staring blankly out the mud-spattered windshield.

"Hey! Ua Kane?" said Howard to get his attention. “We’re here.”

"What?" asked Steve.  He looked dazedly at their surroundings, confused to realize he was at an entirely new location.

"We're at our first stop.” said Howard, “Let's get you cleaned up before we go to my uncle's cabin. There's no running water there so I assume you'll want to get . . . all that off you." restraining a shudder he gestured toward his passenger’s stained and stiffened clothing.  _ How could the guy stand to be wearing clothes that have to be uncomfortable as well as being like a billboard pointing to what he'd done? _

Steve slowly climbed out of the truck to stand beside it with his hand on the door.  He looked upward at the towering trees shading the yard then at the tidy wooden structure beneath them. "Your house?" he asked.

"Yeah, let's go inside and get you cleaned up. Kip sent some clothes with us so you can change."

Steve followed the older man into the back door. Like at Kip's cottage, it led directly into a small kitchen. Unlike Kip's place, the room was neat and well-organized.

"The shower's in there." said Howard, gesturing toward the bathroom off the small hallway that led from the kitchen. He handed Steve the bundle of clothing and added. "The towel on the rack is clean."

While Steve automatically took the clothing made no move toward the hallway. With a frown Howard sighed and said, "Come on boy, you have to get out of those clothes so we can get rid of them. I’ll help you." The older man gently shoved him toward the bath.  The evidence of a violent night needed to be washed away.

**. . . . . . .**

Even though the water was set as hot as he could stand it, he felt cold. The blood that had soaked through his shirt had dried to a sticky film on his skin. It required effort to scrub it off.

He must have lost time again because Howard had finally called through the door to make sure he was okay.

“You okay in there, boy?”

"Yeah, be out in a minute." he quickly called back. He scrubbed harder trying to erase every trace of the night; every trace of his very probable madness.

"We'd better get going as soon as you're out of there. I've packed some supplies." called Howard once again.

"In case I don't get to tell you Howard ", he said through the door as he quickly dried off and pulled on his clean clothes, "thank you for everything you've done." He paused a moment as he pulled on his t-shirt, "Please tell Kip for me too. Tell her . . . tell her I'm sorry."

The older man paused as he stuffed another can of tuna into the knapsack. The words chilled him.

**. . . . . . .**

When they reached his late uncle's ramshackle cabin, Howard stayed only long enough to show him the layout. There wasn't much to see. It looked as though it hadn't been used in quite a while but other than a thick layer of dust it was tidy.

The old wooden structure was nestled deep in a copse of trees on a small rise. Steve noted the location would be defensible with the right weapons. He snorted at the thought. He'd be gone before any law enforcement showed up at this isolated place.

The older man finished his short tour of the essentially one-room cabin. He’d taken a step toward its doorway to make his exit but then stopped and turned.

"Boy, you stay safe. Don't do anything stupid." he warned with a frown.  His face seemed to have acquired even more lines in it since just earlier this morning.

"Stupid?" asked Steve.

"Yeah, you know what I mean." said Howard almost harshly, "Kip's been through enough. Just remember that."

He looked back startled as the hardware man turned away to open the door. Howard stepped out onto the wooden porch then off it to the shady overgrown space that used to be some sort of front yard while Steve stared after him.

"We'll come see you tonight. Just stay here until we get a chance to straighten things out."

_ How do you threaten someone who has nothing to lose? _ thought Howard as he walked toward his truck. He could only hope the troubled young man cared as much for Kip as she cared for him.

**. . . . . . .**

Other than the essentials one would need to survive, there wasn't much here. Restlessly prowling the cabin, he found a couple of ancient issues of  _ 'Reader's Digest' _ and a guide to  _ 'Fishing in the Rockies' _ . He smiled faintly at the irony of being stuck in the middle of a forest in the middle of a sparsely populated Pacific island and yet he could learn how to fish the streams of the Colorado mountains thousands of miles away. Well, no matter. He'd never get there.

He took the forgotten box cutter out of his pocket and laid it on the table.

**. . . . . . .**

**This morning on the other side of the island:**

Danny sighed and stretched out in the small but comfortable bed. Finding a room, (an affordable one), had proven to be impossible. He'd been on the phone during their entire drive to Lanai City. He'd been just about ready to give up and tell Howard to drop him off at a park somewhere so he could sleep there when Kono called. Kamekona had come through with the name of a relative who was willing to put him up for a few nights.

Even knowing that Chin and Kono's clan was large he hadn't been fully aware of Kamekona's vast familial connections.  He was certainly grateful for its existence.  _ God only knows what crawls around on the ground at night in a park. _

Danny had always marveled at the hospitality of the people here. Something like this, (letting a total stranger crash at your home), happening in Newark would be a rarity. Here, it was well . . . almost normal.

Yesterday, Howard had dropped him off at a large white clapboard house on the outskirts of Lanai City.

Danny had been greeted in the flower filled front yard by a woman who was nearly as large as Kamekona himself. She welcomed him inside and showed him to a small room where he set his overnight bag. He gathered that the brightly decorated room belonged to one of her kids - a girl judging from the bright pink walls and the Justin Bieber poster that hung opposite the bed. Briefly wondering once again what anyone saw in the kid with the tortured hairdo, (totally missing the irony of his own shellacked coif), he had a pang of longing to see his Gracie. Despite being only nine, she always managed to make his world a much happier place. This search for Steve had taken a lot out of him. Seeing his daughter in person would help lift the despair he'd begun to feel. He knew she missed Steve as much as he did.  Hopefully soon they’d all get the opportunity to reconnect.

During dinner last night with the large, (in all ways), and effusive family, he learned that besides being related to the shrimp truck mogul they were cousins of Malu Maluhia, Kip's late husband. They'd asked him how he'd come to know Howard and joked that the older man may as well be considered a relative even though he and Kip hadn't tied the knot.

"So, Malu is the man with the patch over one eye in the picture at Kip's?" he asked in a pause between what seemed endless courses of the evening's meal.

"Yes, that's Malu.” answered the woman named Nanala. “He was a very very brave man and he fought hard for our country. Poor thing came back with many scars."

Danny immediately thought of the man he was trying to bring home; the man whose scars weren't only on the outside.

"We miss him. We miss Joey too." The large woman's eyes, which heretofore had held only the joy of sharing a meal with family and a new friend, now held another emotion.

"Is Joey the younger man in the other picture? Nice looking kid." said Danny, noting the sorrowful expressions on the faces around the table that were old enough to remember back a few years.

Nanala had noticed his nearly empty plate and automatically served him another generous helping of roast pork.  Even though he was grateful for such a delicious, (and filling), meal Danny thought,  _ Thank God, there's no pineapple involved _ .

"His real name was Lihau, it means gentle rain, but we always just called him Joey. Joseph is . . . was his middle name. He was Malu an Kip's only son, their only keiki."

"If you don't mind my asking,” said Danny, "What happened to him?"

He didn't want to upset his hosts who’d been kind enough to take in a stranger.  Besides, he had yet to convince Kip and Howard to take him to Steve so he may need a place to stay for at least a couple more days. But his detective’s instincts had prevailed.

There was an uncomfortable pause during which he’d decided to drop the subject before Nanala answered his question. "Joey had come back from Iraq really trashed. Not physically but the other way. One night, during a bad dream, he hurt Malu; broke his nose when he tried to wake him. Joey went away from home right after that. We heard a couple years later that he got killed in a fight on the mainland."

"I'm so sorry." said Danny sincerely. "That must have been very hard on everyone." The entire table of nine had become quiet, even the children.

"He'd always been so sweet before then.” she continued, “It really wrecked Kip. Malu said she never spoke of 'a hiamoe - death. She talked about Joey like he was still alive.”

"She's still waiting for him to come home!" a boy of about twelve or so piped up. "Now everybody in that whole stupid village thinks she's lolo."

"Maybe she is but Kekipi is still the nicest one in the village or even in this family." said Nanala as she pinned her son with a glare for blurting out Kip's secret troubles.

"But not as nice as you,  ku’u pua pua ." volunteered her husband with a smile trying to lighten up the conversation and possibly keep his son from further reprimand.

Even though he’d used a term of endearment, (my sweet flower), Nanala gave her spouse the same look she’d given their son; one that made everyone at the table suddenly get very busy with their food.

**. . . . . . .**

**Later this morning:**

He'd gotten a ride back to the village from Nanala’s cousin who worked at the machine repair shop there. Before beginning his walk to the cottage with the halfway painted porch he’d made a stop at the feed store.  What he'd heard from its proprietor made his blood run cold. The that stranger everyone knew was staying out at Kip's place was a suspect in the disappearance of the two kids.

It made finding his disturbed friend all the more urgent. If Steve was somehow involved and the local authorities got interested, it could be dangerous for anyone near him.

What the feed store clerk didn't yet know was that the missing youths had been found alive. Concealing something like that on this island was not easy but both Rabbit's and Benji's families had flirted with the edges of the law in the past.  They were well-versed on how to keep the news on the DL.

As the compact detective made his way toward the front yard he took a deep calming breath.  He hoped this would be a more productive visit. At least this time he was prepared for the greeting committee. His pockets were full of whatever treats the clerk recommended for goats, geese and rabbits, (though if he'd asked Kip what the goats preferred, she'd have told him to buy a chair cushion). He figured he already knew what dogs liked and had bought a couple of the large milk bones that sat in a container on the feed store’s counter.

As they rushed toward him, he threw out a couple handsfull of goat and goose goodies along with a few alfalfa thingamabobs for the rabbit and a treat for the dog. They were immediately distracted from their generous visitor and pounced on what he threw in their direction. The detective reached the steps without incident.

"Hah!" said Kip from where she stood after she'd come out to see who'd rung her 'doorbell'. "They've already got you trained and it's only your second visit."

"Yeah" he smiled up at her, "And we think we're the smart ones."

"Well, come on in before they realize you aren't a never ending source of snacks and they decide to eat the clothes off your back."

He quickly hopped up onto her porch before the animals actually did realize the treats were not unending.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" she asked, knowing full well what the detective wanted.

Danny once again sat in the woman's kitchen. It smelled of freshly brewed coffee along with a very faint undertone of bleach. Surprisingly, she brewed her coffee in a pot on the stove. He hadn’t seen an old style percolator like that since he’d visited his Grandma Galuzzi when he was a kid.  He smiled and nodded his thanks as she handed him a steaming cup then set a handleless cup of sugar with a spoon stuck in it and a pint carton of cream onto the table before she settled on the chair opposite.

After stirring in three spoons of sugar he took a sip of the nearly black brew. It was pretty good.  "We, uhh, still need to talk about Steve." he said as he set the cup carefully back onto the table so as not to disturb the unfinished jigsaw puzzle. He’d noticed the pile of unsorted pieces had diminished a bit since yesterday but the smaller piles on the other side of the table looked undisturbed.

"I told you I don't know where he is." she replied; no hint of surprise at his statement of intent.  She took a sip from her own cup then set it down to wait for his next move.

Hoping she wouldn't decide to pitch him out into the yard to be eaten by her menagerie he took a deep breath.  After letting it out slowly, he said bluntly, "I think you're lying."

She looked a bit surprised by his honesty but didn't dispute his statement. She stared at him for a long moment without saying anything.

He waited.

"Why should I tell you where he is?" she finally asked as though reading a question on some kind of scripted test. Actually, he supposed it was a sort of test.

"Because I want what's best for him. Because I want him to be safe and well."

"How do you know that it's not best for him to be here? How do you know that he isn't safe here?" she asked, ticking off the next two questions on the invisible list.

"I heard about those two kids who went missing and that he's a suspect in their disappearance. I don't know what may have happened but if Steve is involved, it can't be good. If he did harm someone, he needs to get help – professional help. And if he did something he shouldn't have, he will have to deal with the law. His ohana, Five-0, has the best shot at keeping him out of jail."

"He didn't hurt anybody and you know he doesn't want to go back. If he did, he'd have already contacted you. I have a phone right here. He could have called you at any time. Hell, he wouldn't even tell me his name, I had to give him one like I name the animals."

Danny nearly smiled at that last sentence. He'd frequently called his partner an animal during their usually minor disputes and once during a rant about Steve’s control issues he’d compared him to the character in the movie 'Rain Man'.

"When I met him he was like one of those creatures you see out in the yard; damaged and lost before they wound-up here.”

“Mrs. Meluhia,” said Danny sincerely, “I truly appreciate whatever help you’ve given Steve but I need to get him back to Honolulu.  I know he may not want to come with me but I think I can convince him to go back if I could only talk him. We’re like brothers. He trusts me.”

I don’t think he trusts anyone right now." sighed the woman as she took another sip of tea. “Not even me.”

Just then, her phone rang in the other room. She was going to let the answering machine pick up but it was Howard that began leaving a message:  _ 'Kip! I just found out about Rabbit and Benji! They . . . ' _

The woman moved surprisingly quickly and rushed into the next room to snatch up the receiver. Danny heard her intentionally muffled response to the man on the other end of the line. Even listening closely, he could only make out "Yeah, he's here." before the click of the handset being returned to its place.

Kip walked back into the room, face composed and serene. She plucked the half-full coffee pot off the stove and went to the sink to take the basket out of it before it brewed into a solid.

With her back to him she said, "That was Howard – a little late with the news but he's just found out about those two idiot kids. Seems their families didn't want to let anyone know their 'darlings' were safe until they'd checked with Hakoda to see how much trouble they're in." Setting the now basketless pot back on the burner she turned the knob under it to relight the flame.  After adjusting it to its most minimal, she returned to sit across from her visitor. 

"So they're safe?" asked Danny, keenly studying her face.

"Yeah, Rabbit's almost unscathed but Benji's been sent to Molokai to the hospital. He's gonna be okay too."

"Great. That's great news." breathed the detective who looked like he wanted to cry with relief.  He exhaled as he ran a hand over his brow and shut his eyes.

She hoped the little haole didn't notice how shaky her hands had gotten as the tension drained out of her muscles. She continued in a surprisingly calm voice, "Apparently, only Benji's in serious trouble, mostly for theft and firearms stuff. I guess murdering a cow and attempting to kill a dog are only considered 'property crimes'." she said; angry and saddened at the loss of her old friend.

"Ua Kane liked Marilyn. He told me once that she had big brown eyes like his girlfriend."

"I hope Steve never actually tells  _ her _ that." replied Danny trying not to laugh aloud out of deference to Marilyn. "Cath may not be pleased being compared to a cow." (Though he wouldn't put it past his partner to do such a thing).

They sat smiling at their mutual friend’s cluelessness before lapsing into silence while they sipped their coffee.  Danny finally ended the peaceful interlude when he looked into her eyes and said, "Kip, it's time for him to come home and get his life straightened out. He has to face whatever sent him on this miserable journey. You know that."

"I know that he needs me. I know that I'm the only one who can reach him right now." replied Kip.

Danny hesitated this time. He still had one more card to play. He was reluctant to use it. He didn't want to cause this obviously caring woman any more distress than she'd already been through.

"Kip" he said softly, "Steve isn't Joey."

He heard the small intake of breath but her expression didn't change.

Standing suddenly, she said through gritted teeth, "Get out!"

"Please . . ." he said making one last entreaty to get her to give him up.

"You can't have him! Just get out!" she yelled, tears now welling in the dark eyes.

Sighing, he stood and walked toward the front door.

**. . . . . . .**

Danny had made it out to the front porch after leaving Kip standing in the middle of her kitchen. He felt really bad about upsetting her but he had to get to Steve. This couldn't go on. There was only so much time he could devote to the search before Denning would call his bluff and have a 'come to Jesus' meeting with the team. He could tell the man knew something was up and it was only a matter of time before their formidable governor did something about it.

He was just about to step off the porch into the yard when the 'doorbell' began to sound. Looking outward, he saw a young man and an older woman standing on the far side of the greeting committee.

Kip came out to the porch; wiping her eyes and managing to ignore him.

"Keanu!" she said with genuine happiness in her voice just before she yelled, "Get back you little bastards!" and clapped her hands to make the greeting committee back off. It startled the boy and the woman into a frantic retreat before they realized Kip was only talking to the animals.

They retraced their steps and as before, the menagerie quietly parted to let the visitors walk through.

_ Still like that creepy Hitchcock movie,  _ thought the detective who'd backed up to let the visitors come forward.

"Aloha nui aloha!" greeted Kip as she ushered the two toward the door. Pursing her lips and hesitating for a moment she rolled her eyes then gestured for Danny to join them.

With curiosity, he followed them back into the kitchen.

"Keanu, what happened to you?" Kip exclaimed as they found seats around the table, "Is Benji ok?"

"Benji is in the hospital on Molokai, Mrs. Maluhia." answered the boy known as Rabbit.

"Was he badly hurt?" she asked reaching into the cupboard for two more mismatched cups.

"Nah, he’s mostly just whiny is all." snorted Rabbit.

"So, what brings you here?" asked Kip over her shoulder as she poured the nearly black coffee into their cups. She returned to the table to set them before her new guests.

"We, uhh, we came to thank your friend." replied Delia, the boy’s supposedly tattooed mother though no inked adornment was visible at the moment.

"My friend?" questioned Kip though knowing who they meant.

"Yeah, that skinny haole, the one you call Ua Kane." said Rabbit.

Totally unable to stifle his curiosity, Danny interrupted with the question,"Why are you thanking him?"

Both Rabbit and his mother looked first at Kip as though to get her permission to speak to the stranger.

"This is detective Williams from Five-0" she announced before making an impatient gesture to bid them to continue.

"He saved our asses brah!" declared Rabbit to this new haole. "Benji wasn't trying to shoot him, honest! He only meant to shoot the cow and that dog."

The youth then abruptly paused, realizing he may have said too much - to a cop no less - before looking downward in shame. He apologized in a soft voice, "I'm really sorry about your cow, Kip . . . uhh, Mrs. Meluhia."

"Rabbit is here to help you bury her." said the boy's mother looking sternly at her son.

"How did he save you?" asked Danny.

Eager to relate the exciting tale, eyes bright with remembered battle Rabbit began: "It was awesome, brah! That boar coulda snuffed our asses but he jumped on it with that big knife!" He raised a hand holding an imaginary blade, beginning a physical narrative of the epic battle. "It was really pissed! Benji was already a bloody pile and had peed himself! The haole got knocked into the brush but he came up fighting! He slashed at it . . . " the youth made slashing movements in illustration, “but it was like it didn't even notice! There was blood everywhere!  Finally, he put that knife right between its shoulders and it dropped like a load of bricks."

Both Danny and Kip sat open mouthed, too astonished to say anything.

Rabbit continued: "I thought he was hurt too but I didn't get to check 'cause he took off before Uncle Apona caught up to us."

"Apona's my brother." interjected Rabbit's mother.

"The haole who rescued you . . . the kama'aina," Danny corrected as he leaned eagerly forward in his chair, "where did he go?"

"Don't know, brah. He just ran off into the woods. He had blood all over him; looked like a fucking slasher movie!"

"Keanu!" his mother warned regarding his use of the 'F' word though her son’s relating of his rescue didn't seem to faze her.

"Sorry." Rabbit automatically apologized.

**. . . . . . .**

Danny sat in the kitchen waiting for Kip to return. She was seeing Rabbit and his mother off. They'd made arrangements for Marilyn's burial later in the day. Delia, had promised to have her brother bring his skiploader to assist them.

At least he knew Steve was near. The kid said he didn't think his rescuer had been injured but Danny knew it would be unlike his friend to admit to a stranger, (or pretty much anybody), that he was hurt. The detective knew he’d have to hang-in and keep trying to convince Kip to give him up. She obviously wasn't someone he could bluff. She was too sharp and too tough for that. He smiled sadly at the thought of this little woman protecting the big bad SEAL. His friend was struggling and his world had been turned upside down. Surely the old woman would realize Steve needed to go home to his ohana and the people qualified to help him.

Kip came slowly back into the room. Danny noted that she looked tired. Why is it that anyone who comes into contact with his 'Leap first; fuck the questions' friend always wound up the worse for wear? He should have known that a man who could get him shot on his first day on the job would continue to cause havoc anywhere he went.

"Howard called me this morning to say that he'd spoken to you." she began without preamble as she once again took a chair across from him. "He said that you were a good guy and only wanted to help your friend and that you were the one who could get him the help he needed."

"I only want the best for him. You have to believe me." he pleaded. The detective could see her beginning to waver. Maybe he had a chance.

"I could take you to him but only if you promise not to hurt him."

Danny was astonished at her statement. "I wouldn't hurt him. He's my best friend, I would never do anything that would hurt him."

"I know you wouldn't do anything intentionally but sometimes we think we know what's best for our friends even if it isn't."

"What do you mean?"

"If your friend doesn't want to be found, there must be a reason."

"Kip, there's something that happened to him that he won't tell us. Something that's the key to his issues. It's what he's afraid of. It's what keeps him from coming back."

"I think what keeps him from coming back is that he's afraid of you."

"What! How can you say that? Has he told you he's afraid of me?"

"No, he hasn't but what I meant was that he's afraid you'll make him remember before he's ready to. He has nightmares."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. They're intense and leave him a wreck."

"He's not ready to deal with them yet. You have to give him time. He'll know when he's ready."

"Kip . . . I don't want to scare you, really I don't, but he has to want to stay alive long enough to get to that point. I . . . I don't think he wants to. He's too close to the edge."

Kip looked stricken. She knew what he was saying. She'd seen it but didn't want to acknowledge the possibility that Stevie could do something like that. She'd been there before. Joey had the same look when he'd left. The same look that Ua Kane had when the truck had pulled out of sight.

"I um, I’ll call Howard. We'll take you to him."

**. . . . . . .**

It looked as though no one had been here for a long time. The cabin was eerily quiet. Light barely made it in through its grimy windows.

It was strange, but Kip could always tell when someone was in a room even before they made themselves known. There was an energy in the space. But this time she wasn’t sure. Perhaps there was a whisper of it in the darkness but it wavered. She thought It was there then it was gone.

"Steven?" called out Danny as he searched the dark corners where the light didn't reach.

"Ua Kane?" asked Kip to the dark room.

There in a corner, Danny could barely make out the form of someone sitting on a small bed. There was no answer to their calls; the figure wasn't moving.

"Steve!" breathed Danny in recognition as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. "Steve!"

 


	32. Rattle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Steve before he's lost forever. STRONG WARNING FOR CHAPTER 32.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution for this chapter: PLEASE DON'T READ IF THE SUBJECT OF SUICIDE IS NOT FOR YOU.
> 
> I know this chapter is a little here and there but I hope it's not too hard to follow. The flashbacks and flash forwards were, to me, the best way to tell it. I'd appreciate your opinions of how it worked out.

 

He recognized the sound of the old Chevy as it pulled up outside. He'd know that purr anywhere. He and Howard had made it run as though nearly new. The tinny slam of its doors preceded the startling sound of Danny's voice. The instant flash of relief was quickly overridden by the flash of panic that overtook it and his skin began to prickle despite the numbness. Here were the very people who shouldn't find him. Not now. Not this way.

He didn't want to hurt them.

The dimness of the cabin was pierced by the broad shaft of pinkish yellow light that invaded it when the door creaked open. He could see the outlines of three people as they cautiously entered the space.

He heard Danny call his name, then Kip's voice as they progressed slowly into the room.

"Steve!" breathed Danny as he peered into the dimness toward the corner. "Steve!" He'd never heard his name spoken with such relief.

**. . . . . . .**

Out of the dark came a low growl, "What are you doing here?"

Danny tried to ignore the goosebumps that rippled over his skin.  It was the voice Steve used to intimidate suspects. Though spoken nearly in a whisper, it held all the menace of a snake’s rattle and it was directed at him.

"Hello to you too." replied the detective to the one he could hear but not see.

"Go home." said the voice from the darkness.

Danny stopped his advance and peering toward the darkest corner of the cabin said, "Actually . . . I uhh . . . came to bring _you_ home". This definitely wasn't the reunion he was hoping for.

"What makes you think I want to go home?" rasped the disembodied voice as the very air around them seemed to grow frigid.

"You have to sooner or later, babe. May as well make it now." was Danny's simple statement.

"No . . . I don't." was the unwavering answer.

"Ua Kane?" asked Kip

"Kip, why did you bring him here?  What made you think I wanted to see anybody?"

"He's only worried about you and to be honest, so am I." she answered, apparently unaffected by the anger in the question.

"You don't have to worry." was the quiet reply from the shadows.

Danny spoke up, "I think we do, Steven. I think that when you took off, you left behind all sorts of things to worry about. We've been dancing as fast as we can to keep the governor from finding out about your little disappearing act. Kono and Chin are totally freaked out. Gracie asks every day 'Where's Uncle Steve?' and every day I lie to her. You know I try really hard to always tell my daughter the truth but how can I tell her that someone she cares about is hiding from everyone who cares about him?"

"None of you need be concerned about me and you must know by now that Gracie is better off without me around – certainly she's safer. I'm sure you have your own issues to worry about."

"Issues?" said Danny; voice rising in astonishment. "My only issue right now is getting my best friend to realize that he's not alone in this world and that he needs to let his friends help him."

There was no answer this time so the detective did as he always did . . . he kept talking.

"Do you remember you'd promised to see someone at Tripler to get this sorted out? Do you remember that you left Esquivel's office in a huff and bailed on that promise? Never since I've known you, and I'm betting not in your entire life, have you ever gone back on your word. You want the chance to correct that?"

There was no answer from the darkness.

The three once again began to advance toward the corner of the room.

"Don't come any closer." said the voice and again Danny could almost hear a rattle of warning.

"Steven, we need to help you. We need to make sure you're safe. No one is going to hurt you and if you don't want to talk, that's okay. We can wait until you're ready." Danny said soothingly while continuing to walk slowly forward.

"No closer!" ordered the voice; steely and resolute.

"Ua Kane! Steven," plead Kip, "Please let us help you. You need your ohana right now even if you don't think so. You need help."

"I said no. Don't need anything anymore."

Danny knew they wouldn't stand a chance if Steve didn't want to go with them. He knew or rather,  _had known_ , his friend wouldn't hurt him but now he wasn't so sure.

"Steven, be reasonable. You can't stay here forever. You have to get back to your home, get back to your life."

"I don't have a life anymore. I lost the right to have one." was the deadened reply.

"What do you mean?" asked Danny trying to at least get his friend engaged in some sort of conversation that was more than a few terse words.  The cold lump of dread that had formed in his stomach had migrated to his chest.  It was getting harder to breath.

"You know . . . rabid dogs have to be put down before they hurt somebody." said the voice devoid of emotion.

"So now your comparing yourself to a rabid dog?" asked Danny in amazement but still trying to draw out his friend.

"I've hurt someone and . . . judging from all the blood on my clothes . . . I've probably killed them."

"Ua Kane! Those boys you chased into the forest are okay. You didn't hurt them! You saved them from a wild boar. Most of that blood was from the pig." explained Kip.

There was a longer pause this time.

"Doesn't really matter now."

"What do you mean?" asked Howard who'd remained silent up to this point. The foreboding he'd felt before he'd left the man alone last night was now in full force.

"Steven! What do you mean?" demanded Danny as he slowly edged another inch closer to the bed.

 " . . . 's too late . . .", the voice trailed off without finishing the sentence.

**. . . . . . .**

**Earlier:**

A shaft of light, one of the last to invade the cabin before the sun was too low to slant in through the trees, made the red bead glow as from within. He watched fascinated as it grew larger then began to trail down his forearm to gather again on the ends of his fingers before becoming too heavy to remain suspended there.  Following those before it, it released to plummet to the floor.

He'd only made the one experimental cut. It hadn't even hurt.

Without piercing his skin this time, he traced the knife over the vein's pathway to the crook of his arm. His body was once again numb. He'd thought perhaps the drugs they'd given him in the hospital had caused it but now he knew there'd been another reason for this diminished sense. It was only his own tangled mind that had made him cease to feel anything other than the iciness that wouldn't leave him.

Now, he knew what had to be done. He was sure of it. He'd only fooled himself into thinking he could exist among the living when, deep down, he knew he belonged with the dead. _It's funny how people can deny things that are so obvious,_ he thought as he watched another drop of crimson gather this time on the tip of his index finger before falling away to join the others.

He picked up the carton cutter once again and with a steady touch, his finger followed the blue road under his skin before finding just the right place.

**. . . . . . .**

It had only taken a few minutes for Howard to arrive to pick them up. All he had to do was gather up his keys and lock the door. There was no neon sign to turn off because neon would have been a waste in such a small town. Everyone knows where the hardware store is; just as they know the only place in town to get groceries is the small mom-and-pop across the street. No one has to advertise because there's no competition. Living in such a small community has its advantages and disadvantages. One of the more annoying is that nothing remains a secret for long.

Kip and Danny were waiting on the cushionless porch swing when he pulled into her yard.

"Detective, you really think he'll do something to himself?" asked Kip as Danny helped her into the truck to settle between Howard and himself on the cracked leather seat.

"Please, call me Danny. We need to be on a first name basis if we're going to present a united front to our friend and get him to cooperate. He's stubborn. According to Chin, it's genetic." he smiled, hoping she wouldn't notice he didn't answer her question.

"Who is Chin?" asked Howard, having caught on to interject before Kip could restate her question.

"Chin Ho Kelly is one of the members of our team. He used to work with Steve's dad - also a cop." he answered as Howard put the truck in gear.

The old pickup rumbled slowly out of the gravel driveway onto the still muddy road as Danny tried not to tap his foot impatiently on the floorboard. Being this close to reunion with his best friend was making him more than anxious. If they didn't get there soon it would be embarrassing to hyperventilate and pass out in front of people.

Still trying to distract Kip, Howard asked him, "How many people you got on your team?"

 

"Just the four of us plus some additional help if we need it.  We have the sometimes reluctant assistance of Honolulu PD if requested but the team normally consists of Steve, myself, Chin Ho Kelly and Kono Kalakaua. We . . . we're all pretty close, ohana actually, and have been looking for Steve for a while now."

Kip was far from unobservant. She knew Stevie was in trouble and recognized that Danny hadn’t answered her question.

Tension was like a living thing that bounced along the rutted road with them as they made their way toward their friend.

**. . . . . . .**

_She was there waiting for him._

_There was no apple this time; no baby; no blade; no screaming. Her eyes fastened on his. This close he could see the otherworldly fusion of colors in her irises: blues, greens, golds; like an ethereal kaleidoscope._

_She beckoned him with her long delicate fingers. Somehow, he knew she would take him to a place where no one begged to be released from pain and babies never died. It would be peaceful there; he was sure of it._

_This was his chance to find that for which he'd longed these many days. It had been his secret. The one he couldn't share because they'd try to keep him from it._

_It was a secret that had failed to remain with those buried in their shallow graves; those he'd failed, those he'd killed. Now, he didn't have to keep it any longer because he'd found what he'd been looking for and the memories would dissolve into the wind ghosting across the wild grass._

_He took her cool hand._

…

**The present:**

"Ua Kane?" asked Kip with alarm when they'd gotten no further answers. There was a lessening now of that feeling of nearly electrical energy in the room.

They approached the cot expecting to be warned away but there was no such response from the dim corner.

As he got closer, Danny suddenly caught the coppery scent.  He immediately recognized it.

"Steven!" He rushed forward to grab his friend's arms. They were cold . . . and slippery. "Oh God, Oh God!" he exclaimed as he tried to rouse the man who was obviously no longer conscious, "What did you do, you idiot! What did you do!" he yelled.

Kip rushed forward and began to get to work immediately. "Here Danny, put pressure right here!" she ordered as she took Steve's limp arm and pressed her fingers tightly at the crook of it while Danny pressed at the same place on the other arm.

"Howard! Tear this for bandages." said Kip brusquely as, one-handed, she stripped off her overshirt and flung it to her friend.

"You stupid, stupid sonofabitch!" yelled Danny, tears streaking down his face as his angry words belied his fear and the sound of ripping cloth filled the room while Howard hurriedly bent to his task.

Kip said nothing as she wrapped the cotton strips tightly around the crooks of the unconscious man's arms.

Howard found some matches and lit the dusty kerosene lantern that still sat in the middle of the table. It had been there since he himself was a child. He remembered his eccentric uncle lighting it in the evenings only after it had gotten nearly pitch-dark in the small cabin.

In the flare of light, Danny could see that parts of the bedding had been soaked in crimson and a dark puddle of it had formed beneath the cot.

"Danny, let's get him lying down so we can raise his feet. He's going into shock."

Too worried and angry to be gentle about it, Danny pulled his friend's limp body into a horizontal position. Howard brought a wooden box that had served as a makeshift shelf to set it sideways at the foot of the bed and lifted Steve's legs onto it.

Kip, pressing her fingers to her friend's neck, found a pulse that was way too fast and not all that steady.

Danny stood back and almost unconsciously ran his hands through his hair before stopping himself. Kip noticed his horrified reaction when he realized they had a sticky coating on them.

She tried to assure him, "He's lost enough blood to knock him out but his pulse is still fairly strong. But if we'd come any later . . .” she didn't have to finish voicing the consequence of belatedly reaching their friend.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid . . . " muttered the blonde as he stared down at his partner's too pale face while tears stained his own.

"Come on," said Howard to the distressed man, "let's sit down for a minute."

 

Danny allowed himself to be led to the other side of the room where the older man pulled a chair forward with his foot; not letting go of the detective's shoulders as guided him onto it.

"How could he? How could he do that? Why didn't he come to us? We should have tried harder to find him. We could have helped. We could have . . . " Danny rattled on; fear and worry making him nearly manic.

"Don't beat yourself up kid. He wouldn't ask for help. I've only known him for a little over a month and I can recognize that."

Actually, Howard wasn’t really sure how to react. He'd never had anyone close to him attempt to take their own life. He was worried about Kip’s reaction but, so far, she was all business.

He’d recognized a subtle disquiet in the one Kekipi Meluhia had adopted into her pack of misfits.  It’s what had made him decide not to get too close with the young man. He'd likened it to when one tries not to become attached to a sick stray that may or may not survive long enough to become a permanent member of the household. But, much as he'd tried, his vow to not form a bond hadn't been successful. Ua Kane had volunteered to help him get his temperamental pick-up truck in better running condition.  Neither of them being especially talkative, they'd worked together on the old Chevy in comfortable silence.  After only a couple of hours it was as if they'd known each other for years.

As Kip applied her medical expertise to their friend, Danny seemed to rouse himself. Unsuccessful at clearing the tightness in his throat, in a gravelly voice he announced, "I'm going to get medevac out here." and started to retrieve his cell phone.

"No reception here." said Howard.

"Of course not." barked the blonde as he angrily shoved the device back into his pocket.

"Hold on Danny." said Kip, "I don't think he's in any danger. I've got the bleeding stopped."

He looked at her in near astonishment. "We have to get help." he said, hoping the woman wasn't going to put up a fight about it.

"Yes, we do but it can wait until we get him back down the mountain. I don't think the commotion of a helicopter flight is a good idea right now."

Danny considered the option. They could throw Steve into the bed of the pickup and haul ass back down the mountain to town then call medevac.  But if the SEAL was in a half-conscious state and heard a chopper he'd probably panic and become combative. That's the last thing they need right now. Kip seemed confident enough that Steve didn't need immediate hospitalization. Perhaps he should trust her evaluation.

"Okay, for tonight that's what we'll do. We'll wait until morning.", he sighed in reluctant agreement.

"Good." she nodded as she tied off the last strip of cloth. "He should be awake by then. Right now, Howard can go back to town and get a couple of sleeping bags and some medical supplies and be back within a couple of hours."

Plan finalized, Howard immediately left for town. The sun had just dipped below the horizon as the truck bumped its way back down the mountain. He'd stop at Kip's first. Since most of her animals had come to her in varying degrees of physical condition and decrepitude, she'd stockpiled whatever was necessary to deal with their injuries and ailments. The woman had enough medical supplies to stock a small hospital.

His next stop would be at his store to pick up the sleeping bags and maybe another lantern. It would take too long to go all the way to his place to get them. He realized he felt a bit better at having a specific task and was relieved that Kip had Danny with her. The two of them were much better than he at dealing with this kind of stuff; the emotional end of things. Maybe that's why he and Steve had gotten along so well – neither felt the need to discuss their feelings. He realized now, maybe it would have worked out better if they had.

**. . . . . . .**

When he awoke, he realized he was lying on something soft. It wasn't exactly a bed but it wasn't anything else he could think of at the moment. For some unexplained reason he felt incredibly tired. He slowly opened his eyes and could see light coming in from uncovered windows. It was dim and could signal dawn or dusk.

He sat up, which may have been a mistake because immediately it made him dizzy and nauseous.  There was someone wrapped in a sleeping bag on the floor next to him. On closer inspection he saw a bit of curly grey hair peeking out from it.

_Why would Kip be sleeping there?_

Looking across the room, he saw another occupied nylon cocoon and when the person in it turned toward him in sleep, mumbling words he couldn't catch, he saw blonde hair and a stubbled chin.

_Danny?_

His partner was sleeping directly in front of the only door.

Feeling a throbbing at the crooks of his arms he looked downward to see bloody bandages.  That's when the memory of what he'd tried to do slammed into him.

 


	33. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and his friends struggle in the aftermath of what he'd tried to do.

 

Kip awakened at the sound of the cot creaking as Steve sat slowly upright and swung his legs to the floor.

Silently, she untangled herself from her sleeping bag; not wanting to awaken the man still wrapped in exhausted slumber on the other side of the room. Danny lay sprawled half-in and half-out of the nylon sack he'd placed in front of the door.

It had been a late night. Howard had departed for town long after the witching hour. He'd left Kip and Danny sitting at the old table in the glow of the kerosene lamp; engaged in discussion of how to best help their friend. Eventually, they’d exhaustedly climbed into their strategically located sleeping bags as Steve slept on; oblivious to the anxiety and worry among those who cared about him.

The dim light stealing through the windows signaled the coming day. She yawned and ran her hands through her tangled mane before attempting to stand. Though she was in decent shape, her old bones didn't take kindly to resting on such a thinly padded surface. She rose; moving slowly until the stiffness worked itself out of her joints.

Not knowing whether to smile a good morning or not, she stood silently in front of the man slouched on the cot and tried to discern how ready he is to handle his return to the world. He wouldn't look at her. Without a word, she sat next to him and gently placed her arm around his shoulders.

She waited.

**. . . . . . .**

 

_ He couldn't look at her. How could he? Why would Kip even want to talk to him after what he'd done - or tried to do? He knew he'd caused her more worry that she'd ever deserved. And Danny? Well . . . Danny would  _ **_never_ ** _ forgive him. _ Steve strained to school his features into something that didn't look as though he wanted to cry.

Wordless, they sat side-by-side as light slowly crept into the room. The only sounds were creaks and cracks as the little cabin’s walls and roof expanded in the growing heat of morning and the barely heard chirping of birds, bright but muted, as they began to flit about the surrounding trees. 

Kip finally decided to take the initiative.

"Steven?" he heard.

When he didn't respond, she hugged him closer. "It's okay Stevie. It's okay now." she said softly as she began to rub a comforting pattern on his back.  A shuddering breath and trembling beneath her hand indicated the mighty struggle of her friend trying to keep himself together.

They sat that way for a while longer as a soft rhythmic snoring from across the room drifted across the silence.

Steve realized his astute friend had placed himself there to prevent him from leaving.  _ As if I'm even capable of doing so, _ he thought disgustedly. Even though he'd probably been asleep for several hours his limbs felt leaden and every muscle ached with exhaustion. Even sitting upright had been a struggle; never mind finding the strength to actually walk.

He spotted the bundle of blood-soaked bedding and bandaging discarded in the corner and the nausea he'd felt on awakening increased tenfold. He looked downward at his bare feet he saw that next to them was a small oxidizing puddle that hadn't yet been cleaned off the floorboards. He swallowed loudly in the quiet and throat aching with suppressed emotion he raised his eyes to the face of the woman calmly seated next to him. She smiled gently back in reassurance. He looked away in shame.

Still without words, he looked across the cabin to the man who lay sleeping in front of the only doorway.  Were the situation reversed he knew he'd have done the same but also he knew his friend would have never allowed himself to get this far down the rabbit hole.

He'd always envied the way Danny bobbed up like a cork whenever the dark waters of adversity broke over his head. Sure, it would cause him to rail loudly against the fates or whatever but he always seemed able to work things out in an emotionally satisfactory way. The only thing that could cause his friend to falter would be if something happened to his beloved Gracie.

_ Could Danny ever possibly understand? That he'd done what he’d done to protect those he loved, especially the child who was the very breath in her father's body? _

_ He didn't think so. _

_ Danny would **never** forgive him and would fulfill his self-imposed duty to get him back to the hospital to be locked up and drugged again. Then his friend could wash his hands of any further involvement with the nut-case who'd tried to kill himself. He couldn't blame him; he knew he'd caused enough turmoil for them all. Why wouldn't they want to be rid of him? _

He and Kip continued their silence as the sun rose fully and its rays began to fill the cabin. Eventually, one of the bright beams slowly crept across the floor to shine directly into Danny's face. The blonde groaned and put a hand over his eyes as though it was a physical attack.

Startling himself awake, he chaotically untangled himself from the sleeping bag and sat up. Eyes that had squeezed shut at the rude intrusion blinked groggily open to search the room around him before finally coming to rest on the two figures sitting on the cot at the other end of the room.

Kip, thinking she should leave the friends to reunite in private, stood up to say, "Going to use the facilities out back and take a bit of a walk. See you in a few minutes."

Danny scooted over to unblock the door to let her leave and then sat atop the nylon bag for another few moments. Groaning, he stretched a spine that protested a night spent on a wooden floor by loudly popping and cracking. Coming fully upright, he slowly walked across the cabin to halt in front of the cot and look down at the one who seemed engrossed in his inspection of the congealed stain on the floor.

The detective ran his hands through sleep disheveled hair and cleared his throat. Not having the slightest idea how to approach someone who'd just tried to do the unthinkable, he took a deep breath and plunged in. "What the hell were you thinking?" he asked softly but probably more forcefully than he'd intended.

Not getting an answer, the blonde continued, "You have your ohana, babe. You have me! Why didn't you ask for help? How could it have come to this?"

His friend had yet to look up so he went on, "Tell me what was going on in that head of yours." His voice caught as his throat tightened but, dammit, he didn't want to cry. He had no business crying right now.

"Steven, you scared the crap out of me and your friends!” Voice rising he continued, “First you disappear and make us traipse all over the islands looking for you and now . . . ", Danny abruptly shut up before his worry launched into a rant that couldn't possibly help.

The tall man's only response was the nervous gesture of again and again rubbing his thumbs over his wrists.

"Talk to me, babe, please. I'm here for you. As long as I'm breathin' I'll be here. I know you're scared. I know it's hard. Just talk to me okay?"

There was still no answer as his friend continued the compulsive gesture; wrists beginning to become reddened. Danny gently laid his hand over Steve's to get him to stop before he once again drew blood.

Startled at the touch, Steve looked up sharply and pulled away.  He stopped the unconscious assault on his skin and took a shuddering breath, struggling desperately to quell emotions that were winning the battle despite his best efforts.

Lowering his head he muttered almost inaudibly, "I'm sorry." After only a few more moments he resumed the compulsive gesture that had rubbed his wrists raw.

Once again Danny stilled his friend’s hands with his own.  Once again he felt his own heart nearly shatter. "It's okay Steven. You're okay now. We're going to help you." he soothed; unaware he'd slipped into the voice he used when Gracie was upset.

They stayed that way for several more minutes before the room suddenly seemed to glow. Sunlight had flooded in. 

_ Some sort of sign? _ thought Danny as its golden warmth surrounded them. Perhaps Steve's demons would be driven by its rays to scurry back into darkness.

His friend had finally hit bottom. Now, the only way is up.

Steve stared at the strong hand that lay over his own. His eyes slowly followed the arm upwards to a face that held all the worry, concern and affection in the world. He knows he doesn’t deserve such compassion.  He doesn’t deserve such loyalty. He aches with an unbearable sense of failure. One small nudge and the dam holding back so many emotions would surely break. He couldn't do that now. He refused to let it happen.

Gathering himself, he looked into pale blue eyes and said, "You know, if you keep holding my hand like this, people are gonna talk."

Danny was first startled then annoyed then relieved at the words. "What? You think they don't already? How many people have asked if we're married?"

"Well" said Steve, pausing before he formed a small smile, "I guess I could do worse."

"Damn right!" answered Danny

**. . . . . . .**

 

Twenty minutes later, Howard pulled up to the front of the cabin. He felt like a coward leaving last night after he'd dropped off the sleeping bags and supplies but he couldn't imagine what he'd say to the guy. He really wasn't good at that kind of stuff.

His guilt was also about leaving the man alone after the premonition that all was not right even considering the circumstances. He felt bad for not trying to establish some sort of closer communication but he'd only been worried about Kip at the time.  _ Well _ , he thought,  _ No one has ever accused me of being sensitive. _ He knew in his heart that it probably wouldn't have made any difference but still . . .

Picking up the grease stained paper sack of breakfast sandwiches he'd gotten from the café before setting off to see how everyone at the cabin had fared, he exited the truck and climbed up the creaky steps. He certainly didn't envy Kip and the haole detective. It would have to be incredibly awkward when the boy woke up and realized what he'd done. Hopefully, things had settled down by now.

Just then came an angry shout from inside the cabin: "JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE DANNY!"

Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

 


	34. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is not going to be easy about this. Danny has some fast talking to do. Kip has everyone's back.

"DANNY LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

"Not gonna happen, babe." was the calm reply.

For the last half hour, Steve and Danny had been 'discussing' what was going to happen now that the detective had finally caught up to him and was damned well going to make sure his friend got the help he needed.

Steve of course had no intention of returning to Honolulu for anything other than his agreed-to sessions at Tripler. His partner thought the fact the stubborn man had so quickly capitulated on going back to see Dr. Esquivel was either suspicious or testament his seriously screwed-up friend had finally realized it was probably his only chance to recover. The detective firmly believed Steve would be better off at home where he would be in familiar surroundings and his ohana would be close enough to provide support should he need them or, said the annoyed subject of the heated discussion,  _ 'Watch me like a hawk!' _ .

In any case, Danny wouldn't relax until he watched Steve actually walk into Esquivel's office.

Steve was adamant he would only seek counseling if he could seclude himself from the general populace, (' _ the world of the living' he'd termed it if only in his head _ ), and stay as far away from family as possible until he felt he was no longer a danger to them – if ever.

Danny, of course, hung in like a pitbull. "Steven, can't you please see that you need to lean on the people who care about you? We want to be there for you and we'll be there for as long as it takes!"

"Can't  **you** see that you all are better off without me around? Can't  **you** see that nobody is really safe from me? What if I whack-out and hurt somebody again huh? Let me ask you something Danny", said Steve, dark blue eyes fastened intently on Danny's face, "Do you honestly feel that Gracie is safe around me?"

When his partner hesitated, the tall man bitterly huffed, "Didn't think so."

His friend had called his bluff and he'd failed the test. Ignoring the sting of realisation and pushing past it, the blonde said "Look, we've already established that you didn't hurt anyone okay! The only one you'd laid waste to was a wild pig on a campaign for revenge against anyone who'd ever eaten a pork chop!" Danny's feelings of guilt now served to make him even louder and more agitated.

"Doesn't mean that I won't the next time! I can't go back to Oahu! Danny, don't you get it – I can't be around anyone! It's not safe! You obviously feel that Grace can't be around me!"

At this point, Danny felt the only defense was offense.

"You idiot! How do you know there's even gonna be a next time huh? If you get back to Esquivel and start on some meds maybe that's all behind you! Look . . . " he said, running his hand over his stubbled jaw before locking his pale blue eyes on those that, right now, are the color of a stormy ocean, "I want you to be able to make sand castles with my daughter again! I want you to be able to go out for a beer after work without worrying something bad is gonna happen and that you'll be responsible for it!"  Danny stopped and took a deep breath; letting it out slowly to try to center himself. He knows Steve doesn’t need anyone yelling at him right now.

Howard quietly put the paper sack onto the table and glanced at Kip who sat silently watching the exchange. She'd offered to leave the two alone to hash things out but Danny had motioned for her to stay. She thought maybe the detective felt he needed back-up.

Trying valiantly to control himself and not launch into a full-on rant, Danny took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he calmly addressed the man standing before him with arms crossed in defense but challenge in his stance.

"Steven, if you come back with me we can get you the help you  _ know _ you need." said the detective, palms upturned in a pleading motion.

"No! I know what you want!  You want to make sure I'm locked up somewhere and drugged to my eyeballs so I can't make trouble for anyone!"

"THAT'S BULLSHIT AND YOU KNOW IT!" yelled the detective who’d failed spectacularly at his attempt to remain calm.  His arms flailed and his hands jabbed the air while his complexion reddened with a rise in blood pressure.

Howard watched fascinated by the display as Kip poked him in the ribs and hissed, "Stop staring!  You're starting to look like that damned cat!"

Struggling to regain some control, Danny said in a much quieter but utterly sincere voice, "Babe, the last thing anyone wants is to have you wander around like a zombie again.”

In a standoff, the two stood eyes locked while Steve’s chest heaved as though struggling to breathe while his friend looked on in utter sadness.  With a shaky hand Steve reached for the chair next to him and pulled it forward to lower himself ungracefully upon it.

"Steven, I’m so sorry you feel that way but please believe me.  We were only trying to help you. I know that before you left you may have possibly been over-medicated but we were worried."

"Yeah, worried I was going to do something stupid and kill someone!" was the response as Steve angrily rose from the wooden chair he'd settled in only a moment before. The exertion of the angry debate had nearly exhausted his already minimal strength.

"YOU ALREADY DID SOMETHING STUPID, YOU MORON! YOU TRIED TO KILL YOURSELF!" Danny couldn't help it, it just came out. As soon as the words flew out of his mouth he wished he could catch them and stuff them back in.

Danny saw the hurt on his friend’s face before another emotion look took its place - shame. What should have made him redden in anger caused him to pale; his complexion impossibly looking even more bloodless. Steve fought to school his face into the one he usually showed the world; calm, controlled, emotionless. But Danny had known him too long and recognized the fierce battle within.

"Babe . . ." exclaimed the blonde man beginning an attempt to apologize for the hurtful words he'd hurled at the one he considered his brother.

Steve just waived dismissively. "It's okay Danny", he said in tired resignation, "You're right. I did try but . . . I guess I managed to fuck that up too." A soft snort accompanied the self-mocking words. Suddenly, he grabbed for the nearest support; latching onto the back of the chair nearest him and tightly closed his eyes.

"I'm good." he said automatically even though it was obvious even to himself that he wasn't. He knew it was blood loss that had caused the room to suddenly tilt.

"Will you please sit down already!  You look like you're gonna pass-out any second and frankly, you're still too heavy to carry. SIT!"

"Still not a dog, Danny." snapped his partner.

"Then stop barking and growling wouldja! We're only trying to help you! Aren't you tired of running? Haven't you realized yet that you can never run far enough or fast enough to get away from us, your friends, your ohana?" said Danny.

Steve took a deep breath and opened glassy eyes. He could feel the wetness on the bandages at the crooks of his arms.  His head, which didn't feel all that great to begin with, was spinning as black dots he knew were harbingers of unconsciousness began to float about in his vision like the contents of a lava lamp.

In alarm, both Danny and Howard took steps forward as Steve swayed. Kip quickly stood and moved swiftly to put her hand on his shoulder as she took his elbow to keep him from toppling over. "Time to change those bandages Ua Ka . . . Steven."

Way too wobbly, he blew out a frustrated breath and allowed himself to be settled into the chair on which he'd had a death grip.

She'd known not to hover; that was apparently Danny's job. Kip calmly laid out her supplies on the table trying not to show her fear and worry for the man who only hours ago had almost succeeded in ending his life. She was actually amazed he’d managed to remain upright for so long. Anyone else would have collapsed long ago or would never have been able to even get out of bed in the first place. Stubbornness can sometimes help or hinder but, right now, it wasn't doing this young man any favor.

"Come on Danny", announced Howard, "Let's go eat breakfast on the porch and get some air. There's coffee too. It's probably still even warm enough to be drinkable. Have to get it from the truck though, didn't want to spill it."

Danny shook his head and shot another worried look at his friend before agreeing to accompany Howard outside. He spun on his heel and marched toward the door muttering what may have been 'stubborn jackass' as he flung it open and stepped outside.

Howard grabbed a couple sandwiches out of the bag on the table and followed him. He felt he couldn't be of any help other than to try and calm the little haole.

"See you in a bit." said the hardware man; adding in mock warning, "Steven, you play nice with Kip", (well,  _ maybe _ it was mock).

Steve said nothing in reply; he just looked up in annoyance.

Kip carefully unwrapped the bandage on his right arm, lips thinning to a grim line as she inspected the damage her friend had done with the box cutter. Once again her throat tightened and her chest ached.

Steve was mortified. He and Danny had aired it all in front of Howard and Kip. They  _ should _ know he supposed. He certainly owed it to them after all he'd put them through; especially Kip who'd shown him only kindness even though he felt he'd done nothing to deserve it. He sat quietly with his arm resting on the table as she tended to his wounds.

But, above all, above anything he’d ever done that could give someone pause, he was absolutely and completely ashamed of what he’d done; how much pain he’d caused his friends..

"Stevie, you're going to need stitches on this. Probably on the other arm too." said Kip as she blotted carefully at the now more slowly leaking wound. "I don't think it's going to finish clotting on its own."

"I've had worse." was his dispirited reply; too tired to notice her use of his childhood name.

"No, I don't think you have." she said as she used a thick wad of gauze to soak up the blood that still flowed, though now only sluggishly.

He looked up sharply at the woman who gazed back at him with such kindness in her dark eyes that it almost took his breath away. He swallowed the great lump in his throat then lowered his head as though to inspect his arm.

Blood still welled from the precise cut. He’d done some damage for sure but he detachedly realized he'd not even made the incision in the most efficient way to get the job done. If he had done it correctly, he wouldn't even be here right now.

Keeping his arm motionless, he raised his eyes to see Kip focused on her task, the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration as she swabbed the wound with an iodine solution that probably stung like a bitch. He really couldn't tell; the numbness was still there. She applied an antibiotic ointment and a thick padding before wrapping it in a layer of gauze; taking care to bind it so as to minimally restrict movement in his elbow.

As he lifted his arm to make it easier to wrap the bandaging around it, the memory came to him. All along he'd had the feeling he'd seen the woman before somewhere. There'd been something about Kip that made him trust her from the beginning.

"You're the one who put my elbow back in place!" he gasped in startled recognition.

"Was wondering when you'd remember." she smiled her eyes strangely wet when she looked up from her completed task.

"We'd gone hiking here years ago; my dad and me with another guy and his kid. I remember nearly falling into that canyon. I remember your husband and your son!"

Eyes fastened on his she replied, "That was a long time ago, Stevie, when many things were different for us both. But you are still the same strong, brave, boy you were then. One who wouldn’t give up no matter what.  You just kind of forgot that for a little bit."

Once again, he had no answer.

**. . . . . . .**

By late morning, they'd come to an agreement.

Howard would drop Danny off in Lanai City on the way and then he and Kip would take Steve to one of the doctors on the other side of the island. Hopefully the damage wasn't too severe and the medic could stitch-up his wounds without having him to go to the hospital on a neighboring island. Once that was taken care of, Steve would come back to Kip's to stay until Danny could make arrangements to get them back to Honolulu and Dr. Esquivel.

Depending on how often the good doctor wanted to see him, Steve would spend all the time he could on Lanai. It was a compromise but it was better than nothing thought the worried detective. Getting his friend to agree to come back to Oahu hadn't been easy.

Danny is aware his traumatized friend is very much afraid of being drugged and locked up again. He would do everything he could to keep his promise that it wouldn't happen. He was also afraid that, should Governor Denning find out the reason for Steve's sojourn on Lanai, his partner's career as head of Five-0 would be over. He didn't know about the military thing but if Five-0 wasn't an option what would happen to the man who needed to be engaged in meaningful activity even during ‘normal’ times.  What if being part of Five-0 was no longer an option? He didn’t even want to think about that yet.

It wasn't going to be easy but they'd be there for their leader no matter what. He just had to get Steve to believe that he deserved his ohana's fierce loyalty and love and to accept their help. From the research he’d done on PTSD, he was aware his friend's paranoia was part of the disorder but Steve's refusal to stay on Oahu frustrated him nonetheless.

Despite padding its metal bed with a sleeping bag, his backside felt every grain of sand over which they drove as the old truck rattled its way down the mountainside on the unpaved road. Kip had prevailed once again and made Steve agree to ride in the cab instead of being thrown to and fro in the back of the truck with Danny.

The diminutive blonde yelped as a particularly hard jolt caused his ass to bounce off the insufficiently cushioned steel then, when he came back down, made him feel as though his spine had been driven through the top of his skull. He swore a blue streak at the impact that would surely leave a bruise.

He gritted his teeth at yet another thump of his derriere onto the corrugated metal surface beneath him and thought sourly, _At least Steve isn't driving_. _If he was,_ _I'd have been airborne by now._

**. . . . . . . .**

Sam Denning wasn't a stupid man. He was the fucking governor of fucking Hawaii. He also wasn't a very patient man – he didn't have to be, (see above).

This game Detective Williams was playing was getting old. If the head of his special task force, one Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett, didn't show up SOON, he was going to damn well find out why.

Even though the mystery of who had assaulted his friend had been solved and the mugger and the person who'd hired him, (unfortunately, the muggee's ex-wife), were now cooling their heels in jail, he still hadn't yet been able to contact McGarrett – and it was bugging the crap out of him.

This hide and seek couldn't go on. He was going to get answers if he had to threaten a shut-down of the whole fucking task force. It’s leader needed to get his ass in here NOW!

The greatly annoyed governor of the great state of Hawaii picked up his phone and punched in a number.

**. . . . . . .**

As his patient sat quietly, the physician with the prominent overbite examined the wounds on the arms presented to him. Shaking his head and huffing in disapproval, he called for his nurse to bring the things necessary to repair the damage.

The scruffy man brought in for treatment had yet to say a word. All of the talking had been done by the one he recognized as the eccentric woman who was his sometime 'competition' from the other side of the island.

Actually, he was okay with it. She patched up the people who couldn't afford his services anyway. This side of the island there were plenty of fat, rich, sunburned, tourists on which to apply his medical training.  He didn’t need to treat ‘those people’, the ones who weren’t in the same financial bracket or racial demographic.

This guy, though tanned, wasn’t a local.  But he did look kind of familiar. As he worked he studied the dark-haired man's aquiline features out of the corner of his eye.  _ So familiar _ , thought the island resort’s doctor.

"You're lucky" he said as he put in the final stitch. "If you'd cut all the way through the vein, I wouldn't be able to help you. You'd have had to be airlifted to a hospital that has a vascular surgeon available."

The quiet man, stony expression unchanged, nodded in understanding.

"Working around farm equipment is dangerous," said the woman who'd accompanied his patient into the treatment room. "I'll make sure my hired man is more careful in the future.  Right, Ua Kane?" she nodded toward the patient.

"Yeah, 'farm equipment'" repeated the doctor sarcastically. "You people do something stupid and then, when you can't pay for the consequences, expect to get treatment on the taxpayer's bill."

He was about to launch into one of his favorite lectures when he heard a soft but chilling growl, "Don’t worry about it. You'll be paid.  And if you don't knock off that attitude right now, we'll go outside and see what kind of treatment  _ you  _ can afford."

Startled, the physician looked open mouthed at the man who'd been silent throughout the entire procedure, never wincing or complaining at what should have caused him pain. The menace conveyed in his tone wasn't easily ignored. Perhaps it would be best to let his nurse finish this up.

"I'll let Alice take care of the bandaging and give you a tetanus shot and a care instruction sheet. You'll need to get the stitches out in a few days . . . any doctor can do that for you." he added.

The doctor looked flustered. The man he'd just stitched didn't sound like the people from the less prosperous side of the island that he'd dealt with, (and intimidated), in the past.

His patient sat staring stonily at him as he rose to leave the room.  _ Wait! _ Now he knew where he'd seen the guy before, that had voice clinched it. There'd been a televised press conference last year when the governor and his special task force had gone on camera to 'appeal' to the kidnappers of a couple of teenage girls. It was thought they'd been snatched by sex traffickers.

The commander of the task force had, in that very voice, vowed to find and punish the kidnappers if the girls weren't returned unharmed. It must have been effective because they were found shortly thereafter, walking down a dirt road off the Pali Highway. The frightened teenagers stated that they didn't know why they'd been released, just that the guys who'd taken them looked really scared and couldn't get rid of them fast enough. Eventually the kidnappers had been apprehended and were now in Halawa for twenty-five to life.

_ Whoa! _ , thought the doctor, _ I just patched up Steve fucking McGarrett, the head of Five-fucking-0! _ He couldn't wait to tell Heather.  His wife has connections who'd probably be very interested in the information. This may even go all the way to the governor which surely couldn't hurt her position as VP of marketing for that close friend of Denning's. Yeah, this little tidbit could open up some doors for her, and by association, for her husband as well.   _ Hmm _ .

Both Kip and Steve had seen the startled look of recognition on the smug bastard's face. Steve felt that another nail had just been pounded into the coffin of his career. This would surely get back to the powers-that-be.  If he’d entertained any fantasies about returning to work, they were now only smoke in the wind.

She didn’t know what impact the news of Stevie’s discovery might be but the astute woman knew she had to take some sort of action.  Kekipi Meluhia was up to the challenge and she didn’t hesitate. "Doctor Clay . . . Kevin," she purred as the medic turned to walk toward the door. "I'll be sure to say hello to Delia for you. You know she still lives in that little house on Keomuku Road with her son. I'm sure you remember it." she said pointedly.

"Uhh, yeah" he stammered, turning to face her, complexion reddening under his tan. "I, uhh . . . I'll send in my nurse now." He about faced and scurried away as fast as he could, calling over his shoulder as he fled the treatment room, "Good luck Mr. Ua Kane. Take care of those arms."

The tall man paid the bill with one of the credit cards he hadn't felt safe in using for the past month but, now that he'd been found, there was no reason not to use them.

As they walked back to where Howard waited for them in the parking lot, Steve turned toward Kip with a relieved but curious look.

"Small town." she said with a mysterious grin.

 


	35. The Long Haul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finally talks to his shrink about what he'd tried to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may not have realized when I started this story but it was written for my dad, the poster boy for PTSD. This is for you, Sarge.

It felt strange. The same pictures hung on the walls, the dishes he'd left drying in the rack were still there, even the things he'd hurriedly left out on the bathroom counter: tube of toothpaste, razor, can of shaving cream, were still as he'd left them. But being here felt different somehow -  like the world had shifted and he hadn't gotten the memo.

As Danny put away the groceries purchased on the way back from the airport, Steve wandered from room to room trying again to find his place in the rambling structure he’d inherited. Though he’d been away less than two months it no longer felt right. His world had grown smaller and more compact while the house felt vast and empty.  He didn't fit in it anymore. It seemed once again to be his father's rather than his own. Once again he was a stranger to it.

What  _ did _ feel like home was what was beyond its doors.  He’d immediately rushed upstairs to peel off the uniform that right now represented so much disquiet. Newly attired in board shorts he thundered down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door to his true home - the ocean.  He dove into waves that slipped their cool arms around him in glorious welcome. He could feel tension and turmoil leave his body to disperse into the rolling waters of the Pacific that embraced him like a long lost love.

He knew he shouldn't get the bandages wet but it had been so long since he’d had opportunity to do this. Kip's place had been on the northern part of Lanai where there were no actual beaches within walking distance. Land ended at the towering cliffs overlooking the Kolohe Channel and even if one could climb down the jagged escarpments to enter the water they'd be dashed against the rough coral and cut to ribbons. He would often sit at the top of the bluffs to stare longingly at the sea and the serenity that was surely waiting for him in its blue depths.

**. . . . . . .**

_ Dumbass knows he shouldn’t get his bandages wet!  Dammit!  _ Danny watched from the shore; his face creased with a frown.  Then he snorted in resignation and shook his head as the stern expression turned into a fond grin.  _ Oh well.  At least this time he’s wearing boardies.  Last time he only stripped to his skivvies before diving in _ .

As Steve strode to where water slapped sand, his partner evaluated his appearance.  In the bright sunlight of midday he could see that even though he’d regained some of the weight lost during his ordeal, the man was still thinner than he’d ever been.  Having spent so much time outdoors, his skin is brown as a nut and the scar that had been so raw looking not even two months ago had faded until it was nearly no more visible than the others he carried.  Without hesitation, he dove into the waves that broke over him.

_ It’s as though he’s some sort of creature only temporarily bound to land _ , thought the detective as he watched Steve slip effortlessly through the water.   _ Perhaps he does belong to the sea.  His life on land has sure been a bitch lately. _

Under Danny’s watchful gaze, Steve swam farther from shore than his friend found comfortable. He’d become only a small speck on the surface of the ocean. The blonde still hadn’t been able to shake thoughts that continued to knot his stomach.  _ What if he swam out too far? What if he decided to just let himself sink below the surface? _

Try as he might, Danny couldn't unsee the moment that played over and over on an endless loop in his head. That moment he'd found Steve cold and unconscious on a blood-soaked blanket, those feelings of helplessness and panic, the terrible fear that his best friend was gone forever.

And there was still that  **anger** : anger that Steve had run, anger that he hadn't come to his ohana for help before it had gotten that far, anger that the man thought that taking a knife to his veins was the only way out of his torment. But, mostly, the anger at himself for not being able to stop it still lingered within.

Steve's appointment at Tripler is for tomorrow morning. Danny himself would drive him there and then  _ wait  _ for him this time. If the idiot took off like he'd done the last time, he swore he'd just shoot the hyperactive fucker to make sure he couldn't get far. No damned way is he going to scour the islands for the big jerk.

While Steve was in the water, Danny called HQ to tell them they'd arrived at McGarrett's and that their leader was okay - for now.

Chin had been overjoyed to hear the news.  He’d called across the office to Kono, "They're back."  As soon as the call had ended, the Hawaiian breathed a huge sigh of relief. He didn't know the whole story but whatever it was he knew it wasn't something his friend would get over just by returning home. But he was in it for the long haul – they all were.

**. . . . . . .**

Upon his return to the house in Lanai City two days ago, Danny had immediately contacted Steve’s doctor.  Esquivel needed to be made aware of how far his patient had gone and could probably still go if things didn't get better.  But he wouldn't  _ ever  _ tell anyone else what had happened in that cabin on Lanai. That was for Steve to disclose if he ever chose to do so. He knew the stubborn and reserved SEAL would never allow himself to appear that vulnerable in front of others if he could help it – even his ohana.  No one may ever know how far Steve had descended into darkness.

His next call had been to Cath to tell her Steve had been found and was going to be coming back to Honolulu. As she'd answered, he heard the hollow sound of voices conversing electronically in the background and assumed she was on duty. Quickly, he gave her the update knowing the lieutenant was probably even breaking rules to take his call. She thanked him in a voice dangerously close to one you'd hear from someone trying not to cry.

"It's okay Cath, we'll watch out for him. I'll try to get him to call you, take care."

Though Danny had never divulged to her any information about Steve's hospitalization for anything other than physical reasons, he was sure she knew what had happened. One of the things that had tipped him off was she hadn't asked that many questions about the stay at Quantico. For Steve to have run from his friends then stay hidden, something was seriously wrong - and it wasn't just physical. The two had been engaged in a solid though unspecified relationship for several years. Catherine would probably find out eventually.  Even Steve, 'You'd Have to Torture Me for Personal Information', McGarrett couldn't hide something like that forever.

Danny didn't envy their reunion. He wondered what story Steve was going to come up with. He hopes he will tell her the truth – she deserves it more than anyone.

**. . . . . . .**

The drive to Tripler was quiet and tense. Though Steve hadn't said anything, Danny could tell his partner was worried, if not terrified. They checked in and took their seats in the waiting area. It wasn't very crowded. There were only a couple of others in the large sterile waiting room; one a grizzled man somewhere in his fifties reading a copy of  _ Road and Track _ ; the other, a woman in Navy uniform who nervously twisted a tissue in her hands and bounced a leg up and down. Steve didn't even seem to notice them.

They took their places on the far side of the room where they'd settled to wait.  Out of the corner of his eye, Danny studied his friend. When he first met him Steve rarely sat all the way back in a chair, preferring to lean slightly forward as though to be ready for whatever may unexpectedly come their way. Over time he’d relaxed enough to ‘lounge’ during case-closed get togethers or sometimes when he’d had enough alcohol to loosen up a little.  Right now, the man appeared ready to spring out of his seat to do battle with whatever twitched in their direction. The detective wondered if Steve would ever again feel secure enough to lean back in a chair. Maybe someday . . .

**. . . . . . .**

The tall man's thoughts rattled about in his mind as he again shifted nervously in his chair.  _ I know Danny already called to rat me out but what am I going to tell him? Esquivel said he's heard it all before. Hell, he probably has but how can I tell anyone what I tried to do? Only Danny, Kip and Howard know. I didn't die from blood loss, but this just might do it. _

"Be right back." said Steve suddenly as he popped up to walk quickly toward the door marked 'Restrooms' on the other side of the large waiting area.

Danny was startled but his friend was gone before he could even react. He glued his eyes to the door through which Steve had so hurriedly disappeared.

_ What if he’d changed his mind and was going to run again? What if there's a window to crawl out of? I know he needs space but . . . _ He waited what seemed forever for Steve to return. After another couple of minutes he exclaimed, “Dammit!” then pushed himself out of his chair and strode across the room to the door. On the other side of the self-closing door was a short passageway off of which were the two gender designated restrooms.

"Steve?" he called out as he slowly pushed open the men’s room door.

There was only silence for a moment before it was broken by the sound of retching.

"Steven? You okay?" asked the worried detective as he saw that only one stall was occupied.  There was no one else in the large, tiled, room.

"Give me a minute." came a panted reply.

"You need anything?" asked Danny, voice echoing off the walls as he came to stand by the sinks.

"Just go 'way Danny. Don't need your help."

"I'll . . . I'll wait for you in the uhh, waiting room then." said the detective as he retreated toward the door.

The only answer was the sound of more retching as Danny reluctantly went back to his seat.

Several minutes later, Steve emerged pale and spent looking. He quietly retook his place on the upholstered chair next to his friend who tried not to look at him in any way that would convey his worry.

"You didn't trust me huh?" Steve smiled thinly. Before Danny could answer, he said, "Don't worry. Must have been something I ate at breakfast."

The fact that Steve only had coffee that morning, decaf at that, and moved around the innocuous omelet on his plate in an attempt to disguise he wasn't actually eating, meant he was likely victim of his own nerves. Danny had no comment but was finding it really hard to keep his mouth shut – certainly nothing new of course.

The SEAL was saved from his worried friend's brewing rant when his name was called by the same army corporal who'd been there that first time.

The tall man followed her down the long industrial looking corridor that reminded him of the ones at Quantico. He could feel his palms start to sweat and his heart begin to beat double time. They stopped in front of the door with a nameplate that read, 'Captain David Esquivel, MD'. The efficient corporal, a young and attractive cocoa-hued woman with closely cropped hair and wire-rimmed eyeglasses opened the door and ushered him in.

"Captain Esquivel will be in to see you in a few minutes, Commander. Just take a seat." she said as she placed a folder into the Plexiglas bin attached to the outside of the door; letting it close automatically behind her.

It was the same office he'd been in previously. The miniature waterfall still burbled happily in the glassed-in jungle in the corner. He wiped sweaty hands on his cargoes. The pants were new. He hadn't realized how much weight he'd lost.  Even with a belt to keep them from sliding off his hips, his old ones had a bit too much extra fabric billowing around his legs. He’d have worn them anyway but Danny insisted he get new ones saying "Even for you, someone who spends all of maybe eight minutes, shower included, getting dressed every morning; those clothes are not going to cut it. I bet you don't even own a blow-dryer you animal!"

Since Steve refused to set foot in a store, Danny had called Kono to pick up a couple pair in a smaller size. The T-shirts were okay, they could be baggy without raising the concern they were going to slip off his body.

He'd thrown on a jacket too, making his partner raise his brows in surprise at the additional layer on a guy who'd always thought a lightweight shirt left unbuttoned over a Wal-Mart t-shirt was the epitome of style.

The jacket was necessary. The coldness had never left him.

After about five minutes, there was a soft knock on the door and Esquivel bustled in. "Sorry for the wait, Steve. Got a little hung-up."

The SEAL rose and came halfway to attention before he remembered the doctor telling him it wasn't necessary to do so. Esquivel just made the hand motion for him to retake his seat.

Esquivel took his seat behind his utilitarian desk. While gathering his thoughts he tapped idly on the manila folder he’d retrieved from the bin affixed to the door.  He bit his lips for a moment before he took a deep breath and looked up at his patient with a weary smile.

Steve detachedly realized the man truly did resemble Alfred E. Neuman. Besides the gap in his teeth he had a generous scattering of freckles on his olive complexion; a little unusual for that skin tone but too uncommon.

"So, Steve. I’m glad we have the opportunity to talk again.” he said without stressing the obvious.  “How are you?”

“I’m ok, I guess.” was the non-committal reply.

Esquivel nodded just as noncommittally.

“So, how was your little sojourn?  You want to tell me what you did during your time away?"

Steve shifted in his seat and tried to control his breathing. "I, uh, helped out around a friend's place. Painted, repaired things . . . stuff like that."

"Did you enjoy that kind of work?"

"Kept me busy."

Esquivel was hoping to get longer more detailed information from his patient but he knew with whom he was dealing. "Keeping busy is good. It's one of the recommended activities for people with ASD or PTSD.”

Steve inwardly winced at the acronyms.  _ At least he didn't say 'people who are fucking crazy.' _

"Your friend Danny had called me a few days ago when he caught up with you."

Though his patient’s expression revealed nothing, Esquivel could immediately see redness creeping into the tan complexion.

The SEAL really wasn't surprised when Danny had called Esquivel but he didn't know what he'd told the doctor. The next day, with his partner's permission, Danny had been the one to make the appointment to come here.  After he'd gotten hold of the appointment desk his friend had handed him the phone so he could confirm that he actually wanted to see the doctor voluntarily. It was one of the rules that he had to actually voice his approval before an appointment could be set up if the call wasn’t made by the patient him, (or her), self.

Swallowing the lump in his throat; he asked, "What did he tell you?"

"What I need  _ you _ to tell me." said Esquivel his dark eyes not leaving his patient's face.

"I . . . uhh . . . I" Steve couldn't find the words to say it. He'd faced untold dangers during his career that would cause other men to retreat in terror but he couldn't get the words out of his mouth.

Esquivel sat patiently. He wanted to let the guy off the hook but he couldn't. McGarrett had to admit what he'd tried to do before they could go any further. It was too late and too serious an issue to be subtle about it and dancing around it wasn't going to help.

Emotions now played across aquiline features though he knew his patient struggled to rein them in.

The bubbling sound from the tank in the corner seemed louder now.  It filled his ears as though it were a rushing waterfall. His heart felt like it was going to explode with its fierce pounding.

He knew he had to say it aloud. Esquivel wasn’t going to let him slide. He needed to say what he'd done. Finally he took a deep breath and, having gathered every ounce of his resolve, he blurted in a broken voice, "I cut myself. I tried to commit suicide."

Nearly breathless, he’d squeezed his eyes shut and kept them closed as his own harsh respiration added to the sound of rushing water rushing through his head.  It felt as though an elephant was sitting on his chest.

As the band continued to tighten around his chest, he felt the air stirred before him stir.  When he opened eyes, there was a glass of water.

"Sorry it's not something stronger.” said Esquivel. “You probably feel like you could use that right about now."

"No" said Steve shakily as he reached for the glass. "Been there, done that. Didn't work out so well."

Esquivel retook his seat behind the desk and steepled his fingers like a bad guy in a spy movie. His expression serious, he said, "Steve you do realize what a good friend you have in Danny, right?"

"Yes" said the still shaky man, whose head had begun to pound once his heart rate started to slow.

"We should all have such people who care so much for our safety. Sometimes they even need to keep us safe from ourselves."

"Yes." answered Steve wondering where this was going.

"I know you feel your privacy was violated and your friends want to, I paraphrase, 'Lock you up and drug you to the eyeballs' but you know that's not right, don’t you?  That’s not what they want for you."

"Danny has a big mouth." said Steve his jaw tightening.

"Danny does indeed have a big mouth but he's probably the only reason you're still alive at this moment. You need to realize that your friends want to help you. You need to realize they care about you and want to make sure you're safe. Danny and your two friends on Lanai, and now me, are the only ones who know what you tried to do."

"I'm sure it's in my file now for anyone else to read too." Steve angrily bit out.

"No, it's not."

The tall man widened his eyes in an open expression of astonishment.

Esquivel solemnly continued, "If you want it to remain that way – undocumented and known only to you, me and your friends, you have to talk to me. You understand?"

"You . . . you're not going to document it?"

"No. I don't think what drove you to such a drastic act is an ongoing issue. I think once you deal with what happened during your last deployment, the flashbacks and nightmares will stop and you won't consider hurting yourself again. Whatever happened to you needs to come out. No matter how painful it is to remember it. You have to tell someone about it, preferably me, so we can help you through it."

Steve straightened in his chair, steeling himself to ask the question though he dreaded the answer, "You think there's a chance that I can pass a psych eval again?"

Esquivel looked directly at him, his face serious, eyes unblinking, "I think that like many others, you were injured in the line of duty. While the injuries were certainly physical, they were also mental. We can recover from injuries, even that kind. You hope to return to duty; am I right?"

"Yes, I've lived all of my adult life in the Navy. I don't think I'd know what to do if I wasn't somehow connected to it."

"Are you willing to face what you have to? Somewhere during our next few appointments, can you tell me what happened?"

Steve locked eyes with Esquivel and after a pause gave his honest answer, "I can try but . . . whenever I begin to remember, it just sort of sends me off back to . . you know. That I can't recall what happened scares the crap out of me but what scares me even more is that if I do fully remember, I'll go somewhere I can't get back from."

Esquivel is pleased his patient is being so forthcoming; that he’s edging toward facing the issue head-on. Maybe it will work out for him, maybe not, but now he seems at least willing to try.

"There's a technique that may be of help to you. The jury's still out on whether it works or not but I've had success with it in the past. It's actually surprisingly simple but it's worked for others. In a few days, after another couple of regular visits, I'm going to schedule a longer appointment so that we can try it. I'm not going to make any guarantees. I won't lie to you, Steve. When all is said and done, you may still not ever be able to return to active duty. It depends on how well this works and what you get out of it."

"But there's a chance?" asked the SEAL, knowing it was best not to be too hopeful.

"I'll schedule an appointment.” replied Esquivel. “Don't miss it." he admonished.

For the first time, the shrink saw something instead of wariness and suspicion on the thin face.  It was faint and tentative but it was a start.


	36. Screaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is violence of a particularly upsetting nature toward children in this chapter.
> 
> The truth behind Steve's breakdown is finally revealed and it's ugly and bloody and horrifying.

In the half light of dawn, he jogged through the morning mist to catch his transport to Molokai.

Esquivel, for now, wanted to see him twice a week. Traveling in the enclosed space of an aircraft still wasn’t a good idea so he'd made his own arrangements to get to Tripler for his appointments. He’d catch a ride on a 'pineapple'/fishing boat every Monday and Thursday from Lanai to Molokai then take the ferry from there to Oahu. Next morning he'd return to Kip's place via the same route.

This travel arrangement actually worked out for both parties. In exchange for transportation Steve provided whatever labor he could in hauling up nets and sorting the catch. As for the other 'cargo', it was always safely stashed below deck before he even arrived. He knew was sailing on a vessel that may occasionally transport minor quantities of locally grown 'herbs' but, at the moment, he wasn't in position to do anything about it nor did he even want to.

Kamekona's cousin Ha'upu was doing him a favor. Even though he was still technically a cop there were trades in life; some important, some not. Right now there were other things on his mind. When he reached Oahu, Danny would be there waiting at the ferry dock. His friend would inevitably rag on him about making the Camaro smell like bait as they drove home so he could shower and change but the complaint was all for show. He knew Danny was just happy to see him, (and to have someone to bitch at).  
The mornings were good. The afternoons and the sessions that turned him inside-out . . . not so much.

**........**

  
_Heidegger had long since stopped moving, stopped groaning . . . stopped breathing._  
_Orders were barked and he heard the scrape of a body being dragged across the gravelly floor. He didn't dare to open his eyes but he could feel the void beside him. Even though his companion had probably died hours ago he felt a strange sort of abandonment._

_Physically he felt nothing. There'd been a disconnect. It was as though he'd observed someone else lying beat to a bloody pulp on a damp stone floor. During the last of those beatings he'd felt things snap and break in his body but it really didn't matter. Now he didn't feel anything at all.  He knew it would soon be over._

_Perhaps it was only curiosity that made him chance to open his eyes to narrow slits. He saw people being herded into the cave. The light from the entrance blasted into the darkness to outline their figures in stark contrast like some sort of film noir; its sharp-black and crisp-white edges allowed no grays._ _It was another group of women and children. He closed his eyes again._

_His thoughts drifted to Cath; her dark glossy hair and chocolate eyes. He'd never gotten the chance to tell her how he felt. He hoped she felt the same but now maybe it was better if she hadn't. She could move on more quickly if she'd never let herself feel about him as he did about her. Anyway, it was too late now. Still . . .  though he knew it was selfish, he hoped she'd loved him just a little._

_As he lay thinking of things that might have been the light coming through his lids suddenly blinked and he heard a rustling. A woman's voice asked, "American?"_  
_He didn't respond. He didn't think it was a trick but they'd use whatever they could to justify another beating. Then he heard another female voice cautioning someone about speaking to the prisoner. "It's dangerous. Don't be stupid.”, it said in Dari._  
_The voice directed at him answered in the same language, "All God's creatures deserve kindness." More voices in the background murmured, "Careful.", "He's nearly dead anyway.", and "You'll get caught."_

_He felt a soft, cool hand on his forehead and opened his eyes. He couldn't make out anything other than a dark outline against the light behind her. Having realized that he was having trouble seeing, she moved so that her shadow was cast onto his face. When he finally focused what he found staring down at him were eyes of startling beauty. Her irises seemed to contain every possible color swirling within them. Is she real?_

_"I'm sorry I have no water to give you. I'm sorry you are in pain." she said_  
_He struggled to sit up and she bent to put a hand behind his shoulder to help him. It was then he realized she had a child with her. It sat quietly on her hip and looked down at him with huge solemn eyes nearly the same color as its mother's._

_With her help he managed to come upright and lean back against the rough surface of the wall behind him. Her face wavered in and out of his vision. He again got the feeling she may be only an hallucination; perhaps some heavenly creature come to evaluate him before he slipped completely into nothingness._

_When he could focus once again, he glanced toward the entrance. He knew there was always a guard sitting on the flat rock just outside the cave's opening. Usually he could smell the harsh tobacco smoke of the hand-rolled cigarettes his captor seemed to enjoy. Tobacco use isn’t usually allowed but this group seemed to be a bit more relaxed in what they considered halal._

_He looked down and was surprised to see that his feet weren't bound. They apparently thought he wasn't even enough of a threat now to give them any trouble so they didn't bother. They’d just wait for him to die like Heidegger then they'd come collect his body and drag it out of the cave._

_Speaking Dari he said in a raspy whisper, "Be careful. They won't like you talking to me."_

_He could feel the tenseness of the others in the dark space. He couldn't actually see how many there were but he could hear the restless unhappiness of children and the hushed voices of their mothers trying to comfort them and keep them quiet._

_"This is all I have to give you." she said softly._

_From her pocket she'd drawn a piece of fruit. In her slender hand was a misshapen apple; small and withered._

_"I can't take your food." he whispered._

_"They will probably let us go soon. I can get more. It is the only thing I can do for you. I'm sorry I cannot make your pain go away. It is all I have to give you comfort."_

_Her eyes were so sad and sincere. Even though he felt no hunger, he reached toward it with his bound hands._

_Perhaps it was frightened by the dirty, blood-stained, creature reaching toward its mother but, to this day, only God knows why the child chose that moment to shriek in terror. Loud and piercing, the screech echoed off the stone walls._

_“Silence!”, the guard posted outside the entrance yelled into the cave. They heard footsteps crunching toward them._

_She withdrew her hand and whirled toward the approaching guard, blocking his view of the prisoner leaned against the wall behind her._

_The bearded man eyed her suspiciously; bringing his carbine up to point at her chest. "What are you doing?!" he demanded._

_The woman didn't answer but she didn't move from where she stood._

_As the child in her arms squirmed, still screaming in fright, the tiny mottled sphere that had been caught in the folds of her shawl fell to the ground; rolling and bouncing across the uneven floor to come to rest at the guard's feet._

**…....**

 

"Steve! Steve!"

Someone was calling him. The voice was vaguely familiar.

"Look at me!"

Breathing as though he'd run a marathon, he blinked his eyes until the image of the wretched apple faded and another took its place. The blurry image before him was the calm but concerned face of his doctor.

"You back?"

"Yeah," he answered shakily, "I'm here." His skin felt damp and his ribs ached. Sweat rolled down his neck to soak his collar as he shivered and blinked his way back to complete awareness. 

He inhaled a shaky breath and held it for a moment then managed to croak out, "How'd I do?"

"Great, you did great." answered Esquivel. "This time you got all the way to the apple rolling across the ground before you froze. Even though I'd rather have you stay in the moment with me, this is valuable information for what comes next."

He nodded in acknowledgement but his breathing was still a bit too much of an issue to hold a conversation.

"Let's take a break for a moment okay?" asked Esquivel, his tone unruffled and reassuring.

Steve wiped a still unsteady hand over his face and nodded again. Over the past few sessions, he'd only been able to go this far and no farther. As he'd trusted him to, the doctor always pulled him back before he got lost forever in what was remembrance rather than merely nightmare.

"Can we end this session now?" Steve asked.  His heart refused to slow its still frantic rhythm and he felt nausea begin to overtake him.

Esquivel briefly evaluated the man in front of him before replying, "Yes, of course."  With a gap-toothed smile he added, "You done good compadre."

Still working at slowing his respiration, his patient looked unconvinced.

"Would you like some water?"

"Got any beer?" asked Steve with a faint and exhausted grin.

"I wish." said Esquivel who offered his own broad smile in all its Alfred E. Neuman, jug-eared, glory. "In a couple weeks maybe we can wean you off the anti-anxiety drugs and you can indulge in a bit of the nectar of the gods. Maybe I'll even join you."

They sat without speaking for several minutes. The only sound being the faint bubbling from the terrarium's fountain which the SEAL had conceded to himself was sort of calming.  Finally, Equivel shifted in his seat and asked, "Have you spoken with Cath yet?"

Steve looked down then sighed and reluctantly answered, "Not yet. I asked Danny to call her to let her know that I’m okay and I’ll be contacting her in a while."

"Patient woman." said Esquivel; amusement on his freckled face.

"Yeah, we've, you know, had a thing for almost seven years now."

" _Very_ patient woman." chuckled the doctor.

Steve smiled guiltily, "She's incredible really. Danny's always getting on my case about it. Wants me to make some sort of official declaration that will define the relationship even though I think Cath and I are fine with what we have."

"You going to?"

"Dunno."

"That sounds like something to be handled in couples counseling." said Esquivel with his Mad Magazine grin, "I can recommend someone if you like."

The startled expression on the tall man's face was amusing.

_…...._

 

The Governor of the great state of Hawaii had not been amused.

Five-0’s long absent commander had finally called him to set-up an appointment for a meeting.

Steve had no idea how the man was going to take the news that the head of his special task force had pretty much been 'out to lunch' for over a month.

Not for the first time Danny had cautioned his friend about being 'too honest' with the their employer. Steve’s response had been a withering look. He had no intention of mentioning anything like, you know, trying to kill himself.

But Denning was way too sharp to try to stall any longer. Their phone call had been strained; the Governor sarcastically responding, "Commander McGarrett, how good of you to return my calls . . . all twenty-two of them. I take it you’re now back on Oahu?"

"Yes sir. I'd like to . . . "

"Be in my office at nine A.M. tomorrow. Bring Detective Williams with you." With that, Denning ended the call, not even giving him a chance to apologize.

At the abrupt silence of the disconnect Steve rolled his eyes and blew out a breath. He’d so dreaded making that call and it seems as though his dread had been justified. He strode to the living room to inform Danny of their ominous appointment and found him sprawled on the sofa, watching what to his friend was just some random baseball game. But the detective seemed to be totally invested in the action, (if one could call anything in the slow-moving sport 'action'). He interrupted the announcer several times; manically waving his arms about and railing loudly at the television. With a grin, Steve watched his friend pantomime his displeasure. The SEAL would have had a good time making his own comments, (only not quite so enthusiastically and not necessarily about the game), if he wasn’t so apprehensive about what had just happened with Denning.

_…...._

 

The new meds only took the edge off the anxiety but they allowed him to function without the drug haze he so hated. The flashbacks still plagued him but they'd lessened and he'd gotten better at avoiding things that triggered them. The nightmares were still a problem though. Only the Prazosin seemed to keep them at bay. He just didn't bother to eat for pretty much the entire day after he took it which continued to exacerbate his weight issue. So far, he'd only managed to gain back about half of what was needed.

He still hadn't let Danny bring Grace for a visit even though his friend assured him he trusted the SEAL with the most precious thing in the world. It was still very much a sore point between them.

Dressed in his new cargoes, a long-sleeved shirt over his usual tee, he strode into the wood-paneled office with Danny beside him. Denning was ensconced behind the huge ornate 'governor desk' the diminutive detective had always found so pretentious.

"Commander. Detective." greeted the tall dark-skinned official.  As he briefly evaluated the two members of his task force his face registered neither welcome nor any other expected emotion. He gestured for them to sit in the chairs facing his desk.

They nodded to their employer, both replying, "Governor", as they settled on the deep blue upholstery.  As was his wont, Steve sat on the edge of the heavy mahogany chair and leaned slightly forward.

"So, glad to see you've been able to get back home, Commander. How are you feeling?"

"Fine sir, glad to be home."

"You ready to get back to work? Though your team has done an exemplary job in your absence, I'm sure they could once again use your energy and leadership. I don't know if it would have taken any less time to solve the case of my friend's assault but I believe it may have happened a little sooner had you been around."

"My team is more than capable of handling any cases in the quickest manner possible in my absence. I have complete faith in them sir".

Nodding, Denning replied, "Seeing you now in person, I must admit you don't yet look entirely recovered from your injuries. Do you feel as though you can return to duty?"

"It's something we need to talk about, sir.  I do apologize for being away for such an extended period and for taking so long to contact you but I um . . . I don't feel it would be a good idea to come back to work as yet. I have some things that need to be taken care of before I can return to duty with Five-0. I'm going to have to request a leave of absence."

Denning's eyebrows rose slightly but his smooth face showed no other reaction.  
"How long do you wish to be away? It's already been well over two months since you were called up. I think the Navy has had enough of your time, Commander. The people of Hawaii require it now."

"Yes sir. I understand but uhh." Steve looked down at his hands and tried to form a coherent answer. He didn't want to leave his team hanging out to dry but he knew he wasn't ready to return. He and his 2IC had already discussed it and the detective was going to inform Chin and Kono of their leader's decision as soon as Danny got back to HQ.

Hoping it wasn't too obvious, the blonde shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Denning addressed the squirming investigator. "Detective, would you mind waiting in the anteroom a moment? I need to discuss something with the Commander."  
Danny was startled but complied by standing to leave. A tight smile on his face, he lightly brushed Steve's shoulder to convey his support as he passed him.

Eyes having remained fastened on the man seated before him, Denning waited until he heard the door close behind Five-0's second in command before he once again addressed his visitor. "Commander . . . Steve," he amended in a softened tone, "I know what happened to have you land at Quantico. I know your injuries were serious but I also know they weren't all physical."

Steve, lips parted in surprise blinked back at the man on the other side of the desk. _Denning knows?_

"I'm also aware you may need time to get some things straightened out before you can come back to duty with Five-0. I just wanted to see for myself how you were doing and speak with you in person." Then an expression that may have been a smile, (Steve wasn't sure, he'd never actually seen the man grin), warmed the stern face, "Don't look so surprised. I also have my connections."

Feeling his face redden, Steve tried not to stammer while saying, "Governor, I really apologize for avoiding you, it . . . it wasn't really intentional. I just uh, I just didn't have it together well enough to come back to Oahu." Trying to find the words to explain his doubts about himself without sounding like a total pussy he continued: "Honestly, I don't know if I can come back to the task force. My head hasn't been screwed on the right way since I returned from deployment. I don't know if it ever will be. I'm sorry but I can't explain it any better than that."

Seeing the shame and embarrassment rolling off the man who sat before him, Denning replied, "Steve, I'm sure your team has faith in you. _I  _have faith in you. Let me know when you're ready. Your job will be here whenever you feel it's time to return."

**.......**

 

As they walked across the parking lot toward the Camaro, Steve told Danny about the Governor's revelation - that he'd known what had happened and the declaration that the job was still his whenever he chose to get back to it.

Danny was more than happy that his friend/brother still had a job but exclaimed, "How the fuck did he even find out?"

"He's the Governor. Denning carries weight in places we're not aware of." replied Steve, still not quite sure if he should even react to the man's having discovered the information about his stay in the hospital. Certainly he was relieved at the declaration of support but the lingering paranoia put him on edge once again. _Who else knows?_

**.......**

 

The scream woke him. Danny threw back the blanket and rose from the sofa. He quickly slipped on his flip-flops before he swiftly but calmly ascended the stairs. He'd learned the hard way there could be broken things with sharp edges littering the floor after one of Steve's frightening nightmares. Eventually, they'd pretty much removed anything from the room that could be fodder for destruction.  Danny had jokingly called it 'Steve-proofing' but his friend had only glared at him. "Too soon?" the detective had asked.

This time he found the tall man sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into the darkness. Moonlight filtered through the gap in the drapes to reflect off sweat-slicked skin and the sound of quick harsh breaths filled the still room as hands clutched tightly at the edge of the mattress.  Danny took his place quietly in the chair beside the door and waited for his friend to return from wherever his night terror had taken him.

After another couple of minutes his respiration slowed and Steve's eyes lost their blank stare.

"You back babe?" asked Danny quietly.

"Yeah . . . yeah, right here" was the hoarse reply.

"Want some water?"

"That . . . that'd be good."

Danny rose to go toward the bathroom and returned with a tumbler to hand to him. He watched as Steve quickly drained the glass then asked, "You want more?"

Steve nodded and Danny made another short trip to fetch a refill.

As he handed the second drink to the thirsty man he asked, "You walking through the desert again?"

"Yeah." was the terse reply. Steve quickly downed another glassful, then wiped his mouth with the back of a sweaty hand and set the tumbler down onto the nightstand.

His disquieted friend had finally told him of some of the content of his nightmares; of course leaving out details that might fall into the category the blonde so hated – 'It's classified'.

Danny had become aware that he'd unknowingly witnessed one of Steve's flashbacks to his trek across the desert.  It was what had caused the incident in the restaurant in Chicago when Steve had so quickly downed a glass of water and then immediately reached for Danny's tumbler to drain it as well.  It was an ongoing nightmare.  Upon his return to the present, Steve would sometimes remember the vivid reliving of it and sometimes he wouldn't. He'd told Danny that he just knew that he was thirstier than he'd even been in his life and there didn't seem to be enough water in the world to slake it.

**…....**

 

"So" said the shrink, "You're doing very well, Steve. I'm very pleased with your recall during that last session."

"You mean before I whacked out?" snorted his patient.

"You didn't 'whack-out' as you put it. As we both know, remembering this shit is uncomfortable to say the least. Sometimes our own minds protect us from what is too painful to remember. You went as far as you could."

"You're back to the whacking-out part." chuffed Steve as he picked imaginary lint off his cargoes and shifted uneasily in his chair.

"Well, I wouldn't have a job if people didn't 'whack-out' occasionally smiled the pumpkin-headed man. "It's only a problem if one makes it a lifestyle."

"I pretty much already did that." answered his patient, self-disgust in his voice.

"Steve, you've come a long way in only a few weeks. You should be happy with what you've accomplished."

"I still can't get it all out. I mean the real reason I went off the rails."

"You will"

"But I know it's still waiting there." said Steve as his hazel-blue eyes darkened.  "Something really bad . . . something I'm afraid is going to send me off somewhere I'll never be able to come back from."

Esquivel could see the man before him tense once again, jaw clamping down hard enough to make tendons and muscle on the sides of his lean face stand out.

"We won't let you get lost Steve. You have me – a damned good shrink if I say so myself." he chuckled. "And you have your friends. Hell, Danny and Kip would come drag you back kicking and screaming even if you wanted to get lost . . . again."

"Yeah, I know." admitted his patient with a sardonic smile, "Can't hide from either one. They're fucking relentless."

Losing the levity, Esquivel said, "I know what it's like to lose yourself in memories. I was also lucky to have friends willing to bring me back." Regaining some of the lightness he said, "Actually, I married one of them. We unfortunately didn’t _stay_ married but she's still dragging me back from my own stupidity every once in a while."

Steve smiled but he knew they were only dancing around the objective of this session.  
It was time.

Esquivel had scheduled this longer appointment _because_ it was time.

The doctor held up what looked like a plastic stick with a ball stuck on the end. When his patient looked at it in puzzlement, Esquivel laughed, "I stole this from my ex-wife's cat okay? Well, just the wand part. I didn't think you'd be all that thrilled with a stuffed mouse on a string so I took it off and replaced it with a ping-pong ball."

"Good call." smiled Steve apprehensively.

"Now, this is a fairly simple therapy. "I want you to follow this with your eyes while we talk, okay? When your eyes are tracking something back and forth while you try to recall and hold in your mind an incident that upset you - one that you've unconsciously blocked - this process helps to connect parts of your brain with other parts of your brain and will allow that memory to unblock."

Steve looked at him skeptically.

"Trust me. It's worked for many many people. It's called EMDR which is short for Eye Movement Desensitization and Recovery. It was discovered sort of accidentally one day by a psychologist who was walking along through the woods and realized that as her eyes moved back and forth while she was thinking of something disturbing; it actually made her feel less anxious and better able to think about the issue without becoming so upset or 'whacked-out' as you'd probably put it. Anyway, she did some research and refined the technique and voila."

"That's it?" asked the SEAL as he flexed his fingers then began to rub his wrists. The nervous gesture didn't escape his doctor's notice.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it in a nutshell. Nothing to worry about. I've used it many times with success for patients who've had difficulty recalling events that traumatized them. Once we know what caused the trauma, we can better deal with it." said the doctor with a confident smile.

The man sitting on the edge of the chair in front of him still didn't look any more convinced or any less nervous.

"This may only take another session or two before you can recover what's been locked in your memory for so long. It could even happen in this one session. It's like your mind has locked this memory up somewhere to protect itself. EMDR will hopefully provide the key to unlock it."

"Why didn't we just do this before if it works so well?" snorted the SEAL trying not to look so apprehensive.

"For this to be successful, it's best to use it in combination with cognitive therapy – what we've been doing all along."

Still sounding unconvinced, his patient took a deep breath then let it out. "Let's get going Dave before I chicken out." he said.

"I know you won't but okay. Let's do this. Remember to follow this with your eyes as you tell me what you can remember. I'm just going to slowly wave it back and forth in front of you like this." The doctor slowly swayed the wanded ping-pong ball from right to left before him.

"Tell me again about feeling abandoned when Heidegger died." he prompted.

_Left . . . right_

Steve did as ordered and followed the object with his eyes despite thinking, _This is stupid._

"They . . . uhh drug his body out of the cave. I guess he'd actually been gone for several hours but when his body was removed, I felt really alone."

_Left . . . right_

"Then what?" asked Esquivel.

"A little after that, I heard some people being herded into the cave. I could tell from the sound it was most likely women and children. I only opened my eyes long enough to see their shapes. The sunlight was behind them so I couldn't make out any detail."  
His patient's breathing was still regular and even, face still calm as the dark blue eyes followed the wand.

_Left . . . right_

"I heard a woman's voice ask if I was an American. She touched me . . . I felt her hand on my forehead. The others were telling her not to do it. That she was stupid and would get caught. She told them that all God's creatures deserve kindness. I remember her words."

"Were you in any pain?"

"All I felt was numb. I was beyond pain by that point. I had some broken bones and was bleeding, probably a concussion too but nothing registered anymore."

"Go on, what happened next?"

"Haven't we already been over this like at least a dozen times?" asked the testy SEAL.

"Just humor me."

Steve huffed but once again focused on the moving wand.

_Left . . . right_

 When I opened my eyes, she was looking down at me. I . . . ah . . I'd never seen eyes like hers . . . there were . . . there were so many colors in them . . . like every color that eyes could be all rolled into hers."

Continuing to move the wand back and forth, Esquivel silently nodded; trying to picture what those eyes looked like.

_Left . . . right_

"She said she was sorry she couldn't make the pain go away. That the only thing she could offer was the apple. The other women were telling her to be careful, that she might get caught."

The doctor noted that his patient's respiration had quickened as the long lashed eyes flicked upward at him. "Remember to follow the wand." reminded Esquivel.

"I uhh managed to sit up somehow and lean against the wall of the cave. I think maybe she helped me."

_Left . . . right_

"I remember I could smell the tobacco the guard was smoking at the cave entrance. He wasn't far away. I told her they wouldn't like her talking to me but she just ignored the warning. That was when I noticed the bastards hadn't even bothered to tie my feet. They thought I couldn't even run . . . probably just die like Heidegger and they'd come drag my body away."

_Left . . . right_

"What about the baby? Where was the baby?" asked Esquivel. The SEAL's respiration increased further at the mention of the child and sweat began to bead above his upper lip.

"The baby was on her hip. It was quiet; not fussing or anything. I never found out if it was a boy or a girl. You know . . . it's eyes were the same color as its mother's . . . all those colors . . . ", he breathed as if in wonder.

_Left . . . right_

"Go on." prompted the doctor.

"She offered me the apple; a tiny little apple and she apologized saying it was all she had to give me."

"Follow the wand." admonished Esquivel as Steve had looked up again instead of keeping his gaze on the object moving back and forth in front of him.

"I told her I couldn't take her last bit of food but she insisted, said they were going to turn her and the others loose and she could get more. I wasn't even hungry but I ahh . . . I reached for it."

_Left . . . right_

"What happened next?" nudged Esquivel as his patient's breathing began to speed toward a near pant.

"I reached for it. I remember seeing my hands. They were still tied and they were dirty and bloody. I think it maybe wasn't even all my blood. Some of it was probably Heidegger's."

There was a longer pause. He wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to stop now. It felt as if a band was fastened around his chest and it grew ever tighter with each word.

"It . . . it must have startled the baby because it screamed. It screamed really loud and it echoed around the cave. It was like the sound pierced my brain. It was so loud . . . so sharp . . . so frightened."

_Right . . . left_

"The . . . uhh . . . the guard yelled for it to shut up and then rushed into the cave. She tried to stand in front of me so he wouldn't see me sitting up. I think she dropped the apple then because I don't think I ever had it in my hands. I don't remember it being there."

_Left . . . right_

"The baby was crying and squirming and then the apple fell from somewhere, maybe her shawl, and it rolled across the floor toward him. It rolled and rolled . . ."

Steve was now nearly breathless but kept on as his eyes continued to track the ball back and forth.

"He yelled at her. Said she was hiding something. She tried to tell him she wasn’t but he pointed the gun at the baby and she finally moved aside. That's . . . that’s when he saw me sitting up and leaning there. He lost it. He started screaming at her . . . said she’d defiled herself by helping a kafir. How she'd broken the laws of the Quran and how she and . . . and . . . and the baby had to die because of it."

_Right . . . left_

"It's just a memory." reassured the doctor, "Remember it's all over with now and this is just a memory."

Steve swallowed audibly, mouth dry as the hot sand he remembered lurching over. It felt as though that band around his chest had ratcheted tighter and tighter.  He could barely breathe now.

"I rushed him. My hands were still tied but I had enough momentum to knock him over. The women were screaming now. That got the children screaming. All that noise . . . "

_Left . . . right_

Sweat began to drip down the sides of the lean face as words now spilled out in a rush: "He managed to get to his feet and pulled out the knife in his belt. I don't know what happened to the carbine but he didn't use it. He kicked me in the ribs and knocked the wind out of me and I couldn't get up. He raised the knife over his head. It was big and shiny almost like a sword, I . . . I used to know what they were called . . . I can't remember . . ."

"That's okay, Steve.  Just watch the wand." reminded Esquivel. His patient's inhales and exhales were now harsh and labored as though there wasn't enough oxygen in the room.

"He had both hands on the handle."

_Right . . . left_

"I tried to get up. I tried really hard!" His voice caught as his throat tightened and blood pounded in his ears drowning out every other sound.  He paused, trying desperately to gain some control over a voice that had begun to falter and quaver. The eyes that tore from the wand to the face of the doctor was heart rending.   _Please . . . please . . ._

Steeling himself, Esquivel said, "Watch the wand! You're doing good.  Just keep watching the wand.

"I only managed to crawl to her and try to throw my body over them. She was crying, "Don't hurt my baby! Please don't hurt my baby! . . . Oh god, I can still hear her!" quavered the fiercest of warriors as he put his hands over his ears to block a voice only he could hear. Eyes squeezed shut he rocked backward and forward.

"Follow the wand, Commander!  That's an order!"

The rocking immediately stopped and his patient straightened and swallowed loudly. Then as tears streaked down his face and his chest heaved for oxygen, he continued. "It was like slow-motion, like in the movies. The blade was in the air over our heads and it seemed to come down so slowly like it was taking forever to reach me. I didn't even feel it when he cut me. I mean, I could see it, I could see the blood but I didn't feel it . . . so weird."

_Left . . . right_

"Then there was so much blood and so much screaming!  He raised it again and . . . and . . . I uhh, I put my hands up when it came down. I don't know who he was aiming for . . . me or her or . . ."

_Right . . . left_

"She was screaming . . . the baby was screaming . . . I was screaming . . . Then blade came down again and I tried to knock it aside but . . . but it didn't stop and then . . . then it hit the baby . . . Oh God! It hit the baby! I didn't stop it . . . I couldn't stop it!" he wailed as though all the pain in the world had condensed into those four words.

"Steve, slow your breathing. Don't close your eyes.  Follow the wand." said the doctor who fought his own emotions.  He was so very tempted to end the session but his patient was so close now. So close to discovering what was behind it all.

Steve took a shuddering breath. His whole body trembled but he didn't stop. He didn't close his eyes despite reliving the horror that had nearly destroyed him. The SEAL did as ordered; gaze fixed on the little white ball on the end of a plastic rod, he continued in a trembling voice. "There was so much blood! It was everywhere! And screaming . . . everyone was screaming . . . the women . . . the children . . . we were all screaming . . ."

“It's just a memory now, Steve. There's no more pain in it for you or anyone else now." soothed Esquivel. “It’s all in the past.”

_Left . . . right_

"I managed to get the bastard down on the ground. I don't know how. I just had to end it but it was too late. It was too late. I somehow got my hands around his neck and I snapped it. I felt it snap but it was too late . . ."

_Right . . . left_

She picked up the baby and looked at me with those eyes. Her clothes were soaked . . . red . . . all that red . . . hers, her baby's . . . maybe mine too . . . all that red. Then, she stood up . . . so calm . . . the baby was . . . was dead in her arms. It just looked like a bloody rag in her arms.

_Left . . . right . . . left . . . right_

"She walked to where the knife lay and picked it up. She said 'Please hold my baby for me and handed this limp, dripping, little body to me and I took it to hold it for her."

Esquivel listened to the tale of nearly unimaginable horror. He too wanted to stop but he had to keep his patient on track no matter how he himself recoiled at the horror of it all. He had to help release this poor soul from his torment.

"Everyone was quiet now. I didn't hear any more screaming. It had all stopped."

_Left . . . right . . . left . . . right . . . left . . ._

"She looked at me. Those eyes looked right at me. They were so sad . . . so sad. And then . . . then she drew the blade across her own throat."

Steve was shivering now. There was no way to follow the wand. Just staying in the chair was difficult enough.

Pale and drenched in sweat, "Please." he begged, "Please I have to stop now. I can't . . . I'm gonna . . ."

Esquivel tossed aside the wand and quickly grabbed the plastic wastebasket from the corner. He set it in front of his patient just in time as Steve became violently sick.

The doctor waited quietly as the dry heaving seemed to go on forever before it stopped.

As he rubbed his hand in slow soothing circles on his patient's back the doctor repeated over and over, "It's okay now. It's gonna be okay. You're safe now. It's over.  It's just a memory now."

The heaving had finally ceased but Steve continued to tremble as breathless pants turned into quiet sobs. "It's okay Steve. You’re gonna be alright.” Equivel crooned, hoping with all his heart that it was so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was nearly as hard to post as when I'd originally written it. I would appreciate any comments you'd care to make. They don't even have to be nice ones. I'd like to know what you think of this chapter.


	37. Fuhgeddaboudit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cause of Steve's torment has been revealed. Now what?

It's quiet now - like the awful stillness left after the guns have gone silent and smoke rises into the air over a battlefield littered with corpses and rubble.

The doctor evaluated the man before him. Steve had remained on his knees, eyes squeezed shut, panting as though he'd once again physically experienced his trauma.

Though he knew it was a stupid question Esquivel asked softly, “Are you okay now?”

The reply, instead of words, was a small agonized whimper before his patient clamped his hands to his face and curled forward to rock silently back and forth. The doctor was unfortunately familiar with this self-soothing behavior.  It's a reaction to extreme stress.

There’s no way he’d let this man leave Tripler on his own. Someone needed to come get him and deliver him home. But the savvy shrink knew the commander would be loath to have anyone see him in this state. Permission was needed.

Esquivel crouched to rub gentle circles over his patient's huddled back. The rocking stopped as abruptly as it had begun but beneath his hand he could feel the thud of a heart beating much too fast for one who hadn’t just run a 10K. 

He waited a couple of minutes before he asked quietly, "Steve, is it okay if I call someone to help you home?"

When it seemed that perhaps the man either hadn’t heard him or wasn't yet capable of making the decision, Steve looked up.  Glazed and reddened eyes fastened on his and after a long beat his patient gave a silent, almost imperceptible, nod.

“I know that Danny’s number is in your file. Do you want me to give him a call?” The shrink knows that, these days, no one bothers to remember phone numbers. They’re stored in ‘contacts’ on their devices. Besides, asking someone who’s just been through the wringer to recall a phone number would be cruel and, most likely, unproductive.

In a barely recognizable voice the SEAL croaked out, "He's in the lobby."

The doctor wasn’t aware that a plan had been put in place for his patient to be driven back and forth to his appointments. Steve knew that his worrywart friend still didn't completely trust him to actually show up for them and not wander off again. He understood the concern but it rankled him nonetheless.

Esquivel stood with a grimace at the ache in his lower leg. He’d conquered his limp but the souvenir acquired during his final tour would occasionally remind him why he was no longer part of the teams. Shrapnel from an IED had been responsible for his career change. Sometimes, like now, he wasn’t quite sure if the change had been a good one.

He went to the console on his desk and pressed a button, "Sergeant Waters?"

"Yes sir?" responded a female voice.

"Could you please call a Detective Williams from the lobby and show him into my office?"

"Yes sir."

Danny sat thumbing through one of the ratty copies of _'People_ _'_ he'd gotten from the magazine rack on the wall. This one had a long article about one of those Kardashian women. While he admired her impressive backside, (a little 'junk in the trunk' was just fine with him), he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was that made the woman so famous.

In the middle of reading an account of some sort of feud involving her and another mysteriously famous celebrity he was interrupted when someone called out, "Detective Williams?"

A crop-haired woman in uniform stood at the doorway through which Steve had disappeared over an hour ago.

Throwing down the magazine, he hurriedly stood and approached her. She was Army – a sergeant judging by the stripes on her uniform. He had no idea where she stood in the hierarchy of a place where nearly all branches of military service were present. He knew that when someone was a captain in the Army it was different from being a captain in the Navy.

 __Why does it have to be so friggin' complicated anyway?_ _ __W__ _ _hy don't they just_ _ __give them numbers or something_ _ __?_ _ __A ten would outrank a nine, et__ c.  He followed the sergeant down the long corridor but abandoned thoughts of reorganizing the military when he was suddenly overcome with the feeling that something was wrong.

"Is Steve . . . Commander McGarrett okay?" he worriedly inquired of the sergeant as they walked toward an unknown destination.

"I'm sorry" she replied, "I can't disclose any information regarding our patients."

"Classified, right?" huffed the annoyed blonde. She came to a halt in front of a door affixed with a plaque reading ‘CAPT D. ESQUIVEL’.

Trying not to smile, the sergeant ignored the cute civilian's comments and rapped softly on the door.

"Come in.", responded a familiar voice.

She pushed it open, announcing, "Detective Williams for you, Captain Esquivel".

"Thank you Sergeant Waters," answered the captain, giving her a sloppy salute as dismissal. Even Danny knew it wasn't a regulation salute.

"Come on in Danny." greeted the doctor who, to the astute detective, looked a bit rattled.

Danny stepped through the doorway and nearly did a double take when he spotted his partner on the floor. The man looked as wrung out as he’d ever seen a human being.

"Steve, babe?" he asked in concern as he went to his partner who hadn’t looked up at the greeting. “Steve?” he tried again.

After a moment, his friend raised his head.  Confused hazel eyes blinked at his surroundings until they settled on the man who stood over him. “Danny?” he croaked.

“Yeah, it’s me. What the hell happened?” he asked worriedly not actually expecting an answer.

"Danny, could you help Steve get back home?", asked Esquivel. "We had a good session today; very revealing. But it was a little hard on him and he's still not quite recovered."

"Ya think?" snorted the cop who peered worriedly down at the one who looked ten kinds of wrong; even more pale than he’d been after he’d ralphed in the restroom.

"He needs to go home and get some rest. I'd appreciate it if you could remain with him for a few hours?"

"Yes, of course." he replied. Bending down to his partner’s eye-line, he said, "Come on Steven. Let's get you off of this floor, okay?"

He put a hand under one arm while the doctor did the same on the other side and they tugged him to his feet.

"I'm good." said Steve though his uncertain stance caused Danny to tighten his grip.

"He have any Ativan left?" asked Esquivel of the detective. "I think it would be a good idea for him to take a small dose as soon as you get him home."

"You know, I'm right here, right?" growled the commander who suddenly seemed a bit more with it.  But he still turned to Danny to ask, "Do I?"

"Yeah, we just got a refill a couple days ago." answered the one who, for now, remained keeper and dispenser of his friend's medications.

In acknowledgment of reproof the doctor made sure to address his patient directly. "Steve, I want you to go home and take two milligrams. You've been through a lot today. Getting some rest is the best thing you can do."

Steve nodded and replied, "Yes sir."

Even though they'd been on a first name basis for a while, by having been more formally addressed, Esquivel realized the commander may be reverting to shut-down mode. Considering the horrors that had just been dredged from his memory, the need for distance was understandable. It wasn't a problem unless it continued.

"Should he take the Prazocin too?" asked Danny. Judging from Steve’s appearance, nightmares were sure to come.

"Steve?" asked Esquivel, "You think you should take it tonight? I'll leave it up to you this time but make sure you eat something as soon as you wake from your nap. You haven't yet gained back enough weight and I don't want to see you lose ground on that issue."

“Yes, sir.”

"Take one temazepam at bedtime and, if you chose to take it, only half a hit of Prazocin. It may not do that much good at that dosage but it won't hurt. I think you've done enough upchucking for awhile."

"Yes, sir."

The doctor frowned at his patient who'd suddenly closed his eyes and seemed to be taking measured breaths.

"Steve, I'm going to move up your next appointment okay? I'll see you again in two days."

"Yes sir" replied the commander whose eyes snapped open to blink owlishly at his doctor. He nodded then turned on his heel and pulled the door open to leave.

Danny rolled his eyes at the formal wording. __At least he didn't salute,__ he thought as he made to follow Steve. But before stepping into the hallway he paused to look questioningly at the doctor.

"Could you just make sure he gets some rest?" asked Esquivel, softly enough for his patient not to have heard him. "He'll tell you when he's ready.  Just be there for him."

"Always." vowed Danny.

"I have no doubt." he replied with his gap-toothed smile as the detective exited to follow his friend.  As the tap of feet on linoleum grew fainter Esquivel took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and closed the door.

He went to his desk and pulled out its bottom left-hand drawer. There, nestled in the back of it was the small flask he kept for such occasions; the ones that created mental pictures he'd just as soon forget. Using the jigger-sized cap, he shakily poured himself a shot and downed the amber liquid in one swift gulp. He closed his eyes as the whiskey burned its way down before reaching his center as soothing warmth. He hadn't had to do this in quite a while. _Jesus! N_ _ _o wonder the poor guy is such a mess.__

Taking a few more deep breaths he waited for his normal calm to return. He picked up the folder waiting in his in-basket and then looked up at the clock. With a final sigh he reached toward the intercom to press one of its buttons.

"Sergeant Waters, could you send in the next patient please."

**.......**

The ocean released its cool spray to float over his skin as he stood looking at the outline of Lanai coming closer from the distance. Ha'upu's boat cut through the water toward its dock where the small fishing boats gathered at Kaunakakai Marina.

When the craft was secured to its moorings, Steve said his goodbyes and walked to where Howard waited in the old pick-up to take him to Kip's.

"How you doin' boy?" asked his friend, forehead crinkling as Steve climbed into the ancient vehicle.

"Better" he answered with a small embarrassed smile.

"Good", said the older man as he put the truck in gear and quickly pulled out onto the only paved road on this side of the island.

There was no further conversation as the old Chevy rattled down the highway. There really was no need to talk.

It would be good to get back to the little wooden house where Kip would be waiting with her never-ending cups of mysterious herbal tea. He still had to finish painting the small cottage. The front porch was the only part of it that had received its layer of pristinely white, meticulously applied, coating.

It would be good to have this kind of fairly mindless work to do. There was a lot to think about. After finally remembering what had happened, did he even want to go back to the possibility of being deployed again? Was it even realistic to think he could eventually pass the psych eval? Could he hack being the leader of Five-0 again? Then, there was Cath . . .

Much as he appreciated Esquivel, he'd become frustrated with the shrink's evasiveness; somehow responding to his patient's questions without actually giving answers.

He also needed to get away from Danny for awhile. He loved the diminutive tough guy but he was back to smothering him with concern. His partner needed to go back to his own life. But, much as he was reluctant to admit, when the guy wasn't around, the old house seemed to mock him with its emptiness. Its only other occupants were ghosts.

He knew his friend's worry hadn't been without warrant. He'd belatedly realized that it had been incredibly egocentric to think his death would be of no consequence to those who cared for him. He could never begin to make up to for what he'd put his friends through.

He's still a fucked-up mess but the physical and emotional numbness was beginning to recede. With each passing day he felt more like himself.  But with this reestablished stability came the impatience and restlessness that was part of his nature. Danny had called it his 'ADD attention span made even more frightening by a zeal for all things explosive' nature. He’s probably not all that wrong.

When they pulled-up, Kip was waiting for them in her front yard with her menagerie gathered around her. Her cloud of unruly hair glowed like a halo in the morning sun that flared behind her.

It looked like something he'd seen in a book he'd been given as a child. It was about angels or maybe saints. He didn't really remember anything other than the beautiful illustrations. He chuckled as Howard shoved the floor-mount gearshift into park and shut off the engine.

"What's funny?" asked the old guy. He peered curiously through the dusty windshield to see if he could spot what had so amused the young man beside him.

"The light behind Kip makes her hair look like a halo." smiled Steve, "And with all those animals around her she looks like someone I saw in a picture book when I was a little kid. It might have been St. Francis of Assisi. You know the one. He’s depicted by that garden statue you sometimes see in people’s yards; a figure surrounded by deer and rabbits and stuff."

Howard chuckled as he recognized what Steve saw, "Yeah, she does kinda look like him right now."

"Saint Kekipi of Lanai? Sort of has a ring to it." laughed Steve

"Kip a saint huh?" said Howard mulling it over as he grabbed the door handle to exit the truck. Pausing, he turned to his passenger. "Don't let her hear you call her that. She'll kick your ass."

**.......**

The days had passed nearly without incident. He was almost finished with the house painting. The goats had eaten only one of his brushes but they'd chewed up the bandanna he used to keep paint out of his hair.  It had probably been dessert.

Kip surveyed her home's newly immaculate wooden siding. The place hadn't looked this good since Malu was still with her. Though Howard would offer to fix things or hire someone to fix them, she'd always been too proud to take him up on the offer. Stevie was more like a son . . . and sons were allowed and at times encouraged to do such things. She’d told him on more than one occasion that she didn't expect this but he always looked down in embarrassment. He said it was the least he could do. After a couple of such times, she realized he must be feeling greatly ashamed over what had happened. Her heart broke once again and she stopped protesting his help.

She knew he had a need to keep busy. It appeared to give him some peace. She was glad that something did. His nightmares seemed to have lessened since he'd come back from Oahu this last time. He didn't even wake during the last one. Rather than screaming himself awake he’d just mumbled a bit and tossed and turned. She'd only heard him because she'd been up late putting the last few pieces of a puzzle into place. She still wouldn't actually touch him to wake him. All it took was a few soothing words from her and he'd settled back into true sleep.

Kip knew this wasn't going to last. Ua Kane would soon return to his home and his job; life would go on. She hoped he would come back to visit occasionally. It wasn't quite as lonely as it had been. Some of the people she hadn't seen in a while were coming around again.

Benji Pakele had returned from the hospital on Molokai and was seen in town entertaining its residents with his tale of a brush with death at the tusks of a wild boar. Of course, he always left out the part about wetting his pants and having been rescued by the skinny haole.

Rabbit appeared to have gained wisdom from his experience and didn't spend as much time hanging with the posse of troublemakers. One day, when Steve was busy replacing part of the rickety barrier that surrounded Kip's small vegetable garden, Koa the territorial billy-goat decided it was time to show the man who was boss.

Steve's back was turned when the goat charged him. There was a shout from the other side of the yard and Rabbit appeared waving his arms to distract the evil-tempered animal. When the goat paused to assess this new intruder into his territory it allowed his original target to scramble out of his path.

Exclaimed Rabbit as he nimbly leaped onto the wooden fence covered in chicken-wire, "That's a badass goat brah!".

Steve laughed and dodged out of the angry animal's way once again before joining him where he'd perched on the top rail. He smiled at the youth beside him, "Thanks for distracting him. He’s already nailed me a couple times and it hurts like hell. Koa's out for blood today."

"No worries." said Rabbit with a shy laugh. "You save me from a pig, I save you from a goat."

They sat watching the fierce black goat finally give up in frustration at not being able to vanquish the intruders or push his way through the now repaired barrier between himself and the coveted green beans. With a final look toward the two seated on the fence and a snort that probably meant, "Next time." he turned and trotted off presumably in search of some yummy seat cushions as consolation.

"I . . . I uh never got to say thanks to you for saving my ass, brah. I'm sorry for that other stuff too, you know, in front of Howard's store . . . honest. I know Benji's a dick and I'm really sorry I went along with it."

Steve frowned at the contrite looking young man. He didn't even remember the incident with the boar. He'd only heard the retelling of it from Kip and Howard. Nodding his head, he replied, "No worries. Apology accepted. I suppose we're even now that you've just saved me from a man-eating goat."

Rabbit, lost his embarrassed expression as a slow smile spread across his tanned young face and replied, "Yeah, brah, goats are bloodthirsty."

**.......**

The sessions with Esquivel had yielded more information on Steve's escape. After revealing the horrifying details of what had happened in the cave, his recall of the events that led to his rescue came much more quickly if not any less stressfully. The wise shrink had insisted on continuing the EMDR during his patient's recounting and Steve did admit it took away some of the anxiety.

There really wasn't much to recall after he'd been found near death until he woke in the hospital at Ramstein. Even then, there were only vaguely remembered glimpses of hands and needles and voices in different languages all telling him it would be okay and he needed to stop fighting them.

"After we started taking fire it was obvious that we’d been setup. I radioed it in and the information was relayed to NSW that there was a leak somewhere that needed to be plugged. Another team was dispatched to neutralize the mole in the network then find whoever had survived and recover the bodies of those who hadn't."

The SEAL hesitated. This was getting dangerously close to ‘classified’.

Esquivel knew immediately what had caused the interruption. "Remember" he reminded, "I've been cleared for all this stuff. Don't worry about spilling anything that might be considered classified. Go on with what you can remember."

Steve nodded and blew out a breath. As his eyes began to track the familiar white plastic ball he began to recount his escape and the arduous, nearly fatal, trek.

"Start from where you left off last time Steve." said Esquivel. "You'd just come-to again and realized you were alone."

_Left . . . right . . ._

_He lay on the floor of the cave. All was quiet. The group of captives had stampeded as soon as they realized it was over. He could hear their footfalls grow softer as they distanced themselves from the carnage._

_He didn't look. He knew they were dead._

_Barely managing to focus his eyes he_ _searched for the carbine he remembered the guard had dropped in favor of the big knife._ __'Fucker should have held onto his gun instead of trying to make some stupid point by using the blade'._ _ _Finally locating_ _the gun_ _by feel he picked it up and clung to it._

 _He felt so strange. His body seemed only minimally connected to his brain. There was a delay in muscle response.  Muscles should automatically carry out what the brain expected but he had to concentrate to make them work._ _W_ _eird_

 _He suddenly realized he was standing and looking down at his camos was puzzled to find that they are now almost a solid color – dark rusty red. Blood? His? He didn't feel any_ _pain. He didn’t_ _feel anything other than incredibly tired._

 _He hefted the unfamiliar carbine,_ _noticing that it_ _was Russian made. How'd he get hold of a Russian gun? Where’_ _s_ _his HK?_

 _He staggered into the sunlight; barely able to keep his eyes open against it_ _s glare_ _. There was no one to stop him. It was almost ridiculous after having been surrounded, kicked, and beaten by so many of them for the_ _past_ _couple of days._ _It_ _certainly_ _didn't take more than one man to watch a bunch of women and kids and a half-dead prisoner_ _but there were usually several of his captors lurking outside the cave_ _. There must be something else going on somewhere for there to_ _have been_ _only the one._

 _He found himself stumbling over the rocky ground that sloped downward toward the sandy flatness. After walking what seemed hours he realized he'd ceased to sweat. It meant he was so dehydrated_ _that_ _he couldn't. He fell again and lay there for a while before struggling to regain his feet. It would be so easy to just stay down. He supposed the decision would be made for him and very soon. He couldn't even summon up saliva to keep his tongue from sticking to the roof of his mouth.  Yup, the desert would decide._

_Other than indescribable thirst and exhaustion that pulled at him as though to suck him down into the sand below his feet, he felt nothing. He navigated by being vaguely aware the terrain sloped downward. He couldn't tell direction by landmarks or the slant of the sun – he'd have to keep his eyes open to do that. He barely bothered to open them anymore. When he did, all he could see was the colorless blur of earth and sky. Surely the sun would immolate him before he died of thirst._

_He heard shouting and dusty puffs of dirt kicked up around him as the report of rifle fire cracked across the dry air. 'It's a good thing we already took out their best shooters', detachedly thought the stumbling, weaving man. '_ _These guys couldn't hit the broad side of a barn.' His hoarse laughter echoed from the cliffs that surrounded him - the ones to which currently clung the woefully inaccurate riflemen._

_Falling and getting back to his feet countless times, he didn't even know_ _ _why__ _he got up again after each collapse. The voices had been telling him to stay down; that he should lie on the scorching sand until torn and bloodied flesh fell away to leave only bone the color of bleached earth._ _They told him_ _to rest until there was no more thirst._

 _He was going to do that. Next time he fell, he wouldn't get up. They were right. They all_ _were_ _right. He was stupid to think he could get home. They’_ _d_ _told him he was foolish to even think_ _that_ _he could._ _He should have believed them._

_Heidegger's voice said "Dog, you're fuckin' crazy to think you can get yourself out of this one!"_

_Hannaman said, "Time to give it a rest, sir. Stop now and it won't hurt any more. Just stop."_

_Now there was more gunfire. Not close. He didn't even know if he actually heard it or if it was just part of the chaos in his head. Where was his gun?_ _He knew he’d been carrying_ _the carbine he'd picked up from the ground at the cave but where did it go?_ _He chuckled aloud when he remembered what had happened to it. He’d_ _dropped it because he couldn't walk with it anymore. It was too fucking heavy._

 _He staggered on under the fierce colorless sky._ _He was barely_ _aware_ _of falling_ _that one last time._ _T_ _he desert had_ _finally_ _made the decision_ _that_ _he wouldn't get up again._

 _There were more voices now_ _but t_ _hese weren’t_ _the familiar ones_ _telling him to_ _give up_ _and there would be peace._ _There were_ _hands touching him._ _The new voices were telling him t_ _hat he was safe now._ _But it didn’t really matter who they were. H_ _e didn't have the strength to fight anymore._

 _He_ _c_ _ould lie down and become part of the earth._ _T_ _he ghosts had waited for him and he_ _c_ _ould finally join them._

__Left . . . righ__ __t . . ._ _

**…...**

Rabbit, now becoming used to being called by the name his mother had given him – Keanu – began to come around more often. He helped Kip with her garden and, if Steve was there, trailed after him like a puppy eager to learn what he could about carpentry and machinery repair. Though Steve was certainly no expert, to Keanu he could do no wrong.

It’s now known that Kip's handyman is a cop. Not just a cop, but THE cop. Keanu didn't really question why the head of Five-0 would be hanging around Kekipi Maluhia's little dirt patch of a place but it was working out quite well for him. The boy felt useful and sometimes, when he asked about chasing bad guys and keeping the islands safe, he'd be rewarded with a brief story about doing so. Rabbit had even told Benji he was lucky not to have Steve 'Five-Fucking-0' McGarrett kick his ass that night in the forest. Benji had from somewhere summoned the grace to be at least a little appreciative for his rescue and reprieve from ass-kicking. It still didn't stop him from his subjective yarn spinning to whoever would listen.

Other changes had come about as well. As time wore on, Kip began to include Keanu and his mother Delia into occasional dinners at her house.

**.......**

__Was it only a couple of days? He couldn't tell anymore. Yeah, a couple of days 'cause Heidegger had died this morning . . . right? He was dead . . . but . . . if he was dead why was he still talking to him?_ _

_“ _Just give it up McGarrett.”__

__"No, can't."_ _

_“ _If you just lie down, the pain will all go away.”__

_"_ __Doesn't matter. Don't feel anything anyway . . . just tired."_ _

_“ _Come on Doggie, don't be such a stubborn bitch, just lie down and you can rest. It'll feel good.”__

_"I_ __said I can't. Leave me alone."_ _

_“ _You know, McGarrett, all you have to do is let yourself fall and not get up and this will all be over.”__

_"_ __Shut up Heidegger! I know you're dead! You shouldn't even be talking to me! Shut up!"_ _

_“ _What, you think this conversation is classified?” mocked the voice that now sounded strangely like Danny's.__

_"_ _ _Shut up! Just shut up! I'll_ _ __**pay** _ _ __you to shut up!"_ _

__There was only laughter now. All of them laughing at him: Parkman and Rodriguez, Heidegger and Cantu and Hannaman - they were all laughing._ _

"SHUT UP!" Bolting upright he saw only the walls of his darkened bedroom. No sun, no sand, no blood; the only sound that of the frantic thudding of his own heart and the noisy rasping of his own breaths.

There was a soft knock. The door slowly opened and Danny peeked into the room.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just the usual." he answered running a hand through sweaty hair. It wasn't even embarrassing anymore to wake this way with Danny or Kip knowing what had happened. He'd breezed past that impediment long ago.

"I take it I was in this one?" asked Danny as he approached the bed.

"You? Why do you say that?" asked McGarrett still trying to blink away blazing sunlight from his retinas.

"I heard you yell that you'd pay me to shut up."

"I did?"

"Yeah, you sounded pretty pissed."

"Sorry"

"It's okay, babe. Not the first time you've said it." snorted Danny.

"Oh . . . yeah. You're right, I remember that now. Offer's still good." replied Steve; now calmer, a smile in his hoarse voice. The room is too dark to clearly make out anyone’s facial expressions.

"You still haven't paid up from the last time.", huffed the blonde as he sat on the edge of the rumpled bed. "You need water?"

"Nah, I'm good."

The two sat without speaking for several minutes before Steve broke the silence.

"Danny?"

"Yeah babe?"

"Thank you."

“For what?”

“For finding me. For caring so much about your nutcase partner.”

"You’re my brother, Steven. Of course I’d come after you. If I think you’re lost somewhere, I’ll always come find you.”

“Well . . . thanks.”

“In the immortal words of any number of Mafioso – fuhgeddaboudit."

There was another small chuckle in the darkness. "Can't do that. I wouldn't even be here if you'd given up on me. I don't know what . . . well, I guess I do know what would have happened. I'm so sorry Danny. I'm so so sorry . . . " he barely choked out the words as his throat tightened and his eyes burned. There was something breaking and coming loose inside him. He buried his face in his hands as sobs suddenly racked his body.

"Hey hey. It's okay now. It's really gonna be okay now, honest." said Danny as he wrapped his arms around the shaking shoulders and rocked his friend back and forth in the darkness. He knew these tears were a long time coming. These were more than tears of remorse. These were tears of sorrow and acceptance. This was what needed to happen before any real rebuilding could begin. It had been too long in coming.

After a bit, Steve took a shuddering breath and straightened himself to pull away from the comforting embrace of his friend.

"Danny?"

"Yeah, Steven?"

"Can I tell you what happened to me?"

 


	38. Bared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has to settle something before he can go back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. Any comments you'd care to make on this one would be much appreciated.

That night, Steve told him what had happened in the cave. Danny sat quietly; thoroughly stunned after Steve's calm recounting of it. Now that he knew what had come about to so unglue his friend it gave him a whole new appreciation of what the man had the strength to endure until he no longer could.

He'd always known when things had gone rougher than usual during Steve’s infrequent deployments. His friend would return battered, exhausted, and even quieter than was normal for him. But what he’d just heard was almost inconceivable . . . horrifying . . . he had no idea.

That Steve had survived it at all was a miracle in itself. As to how he’d managed to hang on as long as he had without trying to permanently erase the memory of it . . . well, it too was something of a miracle.

Still, there was a lingering anger deep inside that wouldn’t go away despite how grateful anny is that his cherished friend still lives and breathes. He didn’t know if it was at Steve for what he’d tried to do or at himself for not being able to stop it sooner. But no matter. He’ll do everything he can for his brother who needs all the support and encouragement he can get. His ohana won’t fail him.

**. . . . . . .**

Over the next two months, the sessions with Esquivel continued and Steve continued to travel back and forth between Lanai and Oahu. The commute was well planned. The fishing boat pulled into the marina on Oahu late enough that it left time to get home, shower, and get dressed before he had to be at Tripler but not a minute more.

He hated the wait until he was called into the shrink's office. It gave him too much time to anticipate whatever the gap-toothed doctor would ask of him. Danny and Kip weren't the only ones who could be relentless. There would surely be things to be dealt with that he'd just as soon forget. But that was the point of all this, wasn’t it?

Esquivel was amused at the way his patient seemed to approach his therapy these days. The commander would stride into his office, pre-set in ‘mission’ mode. What went on from there wasn’t always traumatic but often enough it was. Then, session over and duty fulfilled, the commander would quickly depart as though he'd completed a successful op and then withdrawn to await the next assignment.

He'd grown fond of this patient and looked forward to the little sparing matches it sometimes took to pry information from him. The walls of the fortress hadn't fully crumbled but they weren't as high as they'd been.

**. . . . . . .**

Steve loved the ocean and enjoyed having something constructive to do. Feeling he should be doing something other than ride along as a passenger, the SEAL had been providing any labor he could on the fishing vessel. Ha'upu had even begun to give Steve some of the catch to take to Kip; laughingly saying he had to pay his crew - even the part-timers - and even if it was only in fish.

Kip was happy to have the fresh fare to share with her increasingly frequent guests. Even Mario Hakoda, the island's one and only cop and Kip's forever hopeful suitor had been coming around for dinner. After witnessing Howard and Kip together, he'd finally and reluctantly realized the woman would never be his. He had no chance to woo her away from the hardware man and it was time to move on.

Kip, once again exercising her 'inner sneakiness', as Malu had called it. It was a trait that had served her well in the past. She would frequently invite the big cop and Keanu's mother Delia to the same meal. She hadn't missed the small display of goo-goo eyes that had broken out between the two.

Rabbit, of course, was completely horrified.

**. . . . . . .**

Danny had traveled with Steve to Lanai this time. Though he'd told his friend it was to get away from the bustle of Oahu for a day, (which Steve didn't really believe), his intention was to thank Kip in person for taking care of his partner and giving him refuge when he truly needed it. Danny shuddered to think what could have happened if the woman hadn't taken in the troubled man.

Proudly, she'd shown Danny all the work 'Stevie' had done for her and the detective had to admit it was quite impressive; the house painted and its roof repaired, the garden hoed and its fence rendered goat-proof, the animal enclosures rebuilt, and much more. But what made Danny chuckle were the bolts of cloth in the storeroom. They’d been precisely arranged by the print's predominant color. Steve, of course, hadn't been able to abide the chaos of Kip's storage system – if she’d even had one.

Perhaps there was truth in Steve's statement that time Danny had been house sitting for him and the SEAL had come home earlier than planned. The detective hadn't time to clean up the mess he'd created in his partner's absence. After staring open-mouthed at the disarray of his normally well-ordered home, Steve had shaken his head and said, "You do know that an orderly environment is the sign of an orderly mind don't you?"

It was encouraging to know the tall man now felt well enough to exercise his true OCD nature. It would certainly come in handy because Danny knew the supply room at HQ. needed some serious organizing. None of the other three members of the team were brave enough to tackle the challenge and Chin had finally resorted to raiding HPD for printer ink. Only God knew where to find their own supply in the disordered jumble of Five-0's storeroom. Steve had been sorely missed for more than his leadership skills.

Someday, Danny would have to con his neat freak partner into coming to his own rat-hole of an apartment. It needed some serious tidying, (or maybe just a go with a pressure washer). He'd just give Steve a can of Red Bull, an old toothbrush, and some Comet Cleanser then turn him loose. Problem solved.

Danny and Kip sat companionably sipping tea from her battered stoneware cups. Steve had warned him not to drink too much of it. And, though unlikely the subject should come up, not to take any ‘pee tests’ for a few days after drinking it. The detective was a bit startled at the warning but whenever the old woman offered it, he always accepted a cup.

Out the kitchen window, they saw the tall man kneeling in the grass, talking to the old dog who looked at him warily. No one had ever managed to make friends with the decrepit but still fierce animal.

He'd never even had a name. Kip just called him 'the dog'. She usually let the animals name themselves. They'd have a trait or something that would distinguish them; hence the cat named Jack as in the card game One-Eyed-Jacks, a ferocious billygoat named Koa which in Hawaiian meant warrior, the rabbit Houdini with his nearly tragic skill at escaping, etc. One of the exceptions to the naming procedure had been Marilyn who'd already come with a name. Kip could only guess why the old farmer had named her that . . . something to do with large udders no doubt. The old lech also had a cow named Dolly.

Kip was pleased Stevie hadn't given up his campaign to befriend the dog. She herself couldn't even pet the irritable canine without worrying about losing a hand.

Other than the day he'd allowed himself to be leashed and brought here, his caretaker hadn't been able to get near him. She’d been hoping to be able to clean him up but it was just too dangerous to try. He’d never felt a brush and tufts of fur clung haphazardly here and there on his scruffy coat.

"I'll be damned." murmured the old woman as Danny looked up quizzically from the puzzle on the table. He'd begun to fit in a few pieces. It was addictive.

"What? What's happened?" he asked as he stood to look out the window. Steve was in the yard, stroking the dog's grizzled head.

"That animal’s never let anybody touch him. I've had him six years and the old bastard’s never let me closer than a few feet."

"How did he wind up that way, so wary of people?" asked Danny as he watched his friend carefully pet the old dog while speaking to it. It didn't look unhappy, maybe just a little cautious.

"He'd been chained and pretty much isolated from human contact for probably years before I rescued him. I don't think he's ever accepted affection from anyone. When it was offered, he'd always growl and back away. He's never learned that people can actually care about him."

"I wonder what made him let Steve near?" wondered Danny aloud.

"I think maybe it has to do with aumakua." ventured Kip thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" asked Danny, mentally chastising himself for not paying more attention to Gracie's Hawaiian vocabulary homework.

"The word can mean many things. This time, I think the term that comes closest is 'kindred spirit'." Eyes still fastened on Steve and the dog she silently nodded to herself before taking another sip from the chipped cup she’d set on the counter.

Side by side, the old woman and the detective stood gazing at the strangely touching scene playing out in the back yard.

After several minutes Danny sighed and said with no small amount of frustration in his tone. “He’s such a bonehead. I don’t think Steve has ever known just how many people care about him."

"Maybe now, they both know." replied the old woman.

**. . . . . . .**

The dog cautiously studied him but hadn’t backed off. It had taken some time, (quite a bit of it), for the animal to trust him even this much. He’d thought it was never going to happen but he'd kept at it; talking to him and offering bits of food when he could. Pretty much the only response he'd gotten for the gesture was a low growl of warning if he came too close. Carefully, he reached toward him; ready to quickly retract his hand if need be. He smiled as he was rewarded when the animal didn't growl or flinch away from the soft stroke across its graying head.

He felt he owed the dog. That warning growl toward the tree-line that evening in the pasture had gotten him to move from where he was standing. He wasn’t sure if he believed in the idea of guardian angels but there was a Hawaiian word that seemed to fit, 'aumakua'.

It had always been a role of the dice for him. Lady Luck either kissed you or slapped you. There didn't seem to be a pattern for such things. All one could do was to be prepared for the worst and appreciate the best if it ever comes. He hadn't really felt appreciative in a long while. For whatever reason, his life hadn't gone that way.

Maybe things had changed. Was the dog somehow a spirit sent to help him? He knew it was crazy to think so but the term 'crazy' didn't bother him that much anymore; sort of a 'been-there-done-that' kinda thing he supposed.

"Maybe it's time to come in from the cold, dog." he said softly to the old canine who leaned into his touch. As it felt the hand cautiously stroking his head he seemed to groan in relief.

"Maybe it's time for both of us, huh?" he asked as he gave the animal one final pat; gently ruffling the old dog’s fur before he stood to go back to the house.

**. . . . . . .**

The days wore on and the sessions with Esquivel finally came to an end. The gap-toothed shrink was happy with what had been accomplished in three months of therapy. He was satisfied that, while the issue had been enormously critical, it wouldn't now be an ongoing one.

The savvy shrink knew an official diagnosis of ASD, (Steve had several of the symptoms that differentiated it from PTSD; reduced awareness, numbing, amnesia and etc.), may compromise the commander’s ability to continue as part of the military. To leave the door open for his patient to return to duty, (should he choose to do so provided he could pass the psych eval), the doctor only listed treatment of specific symptoms rather than label his patient with what could be interpreted as an exclusionary diagnosis by someone in the Navy's chain of command.

It was now up to Steve to make the decision.

**. . . . . . .**

Steve nervously, (very nervously), waited for Catherine to deplane. Once again, she'd caught a flight on a military transport – this time one of the big C-130's. The monstrous aircraft finally came to a halt on the tarmac and after several long minutes, its huge cargo doors opened and several people in military fatigues clumped down the wide metal ramp.

 _ _What am I going to say to her? How can I ever make up for leaving and isolating myself from the woman I care about . . . well, okay, . . . . love.__ There, he'd admitted it. He loved her. But would the emotion be returned? How could it? Why would Catherine want to stay with him when he'd taken off like that and shut her out? When she had to know how fucked-up he'd been and maybe still is.

Her eyes swept over the small group gathered to greet those trickling ahead of her down the broad ramp. __There he is!__ Her heart beat faster and she felt the old flutter in her stomach. She’s relieved that he looks healthy because he had to truly be in pain to run like that. _What am I going to say to him?_ She wasn't there when he’d needed her most and guilt had hounded her from the moment she heard that Steve had run. He had to be in such pain. __Can I ever make up for not being there for him?__ _s_ _he worried._ _ _Will he still want me?__ She’d loved him for so long but hadn't wanted to risk saying it because she didn't know if he felt the same.

 _ _There she is!__ He saw her eyes searching through those awaiting the uniformed personnel emerging from the plane's gigantic metal maw. He knew she'd spotted him when her beautiful chocolate eyes beamed in his direction. Swiftly, he covered the distance between them.

He met her as she reached the bottom of the ramp and dropped her duffle to silently throw her arms around him. His arms enfolded her as he buried his face in her hair; inhaling her scent while she pressed her face against his chest; listening to the strangely swift but reassuring beat of his heart. Want and need bonded one to the other as they clung fiercely; two sets of eyes having grown suspiciously damp.

 **. . . . . . .**  


Chin and Kono were overjoyed the morning their leader walked in as though he'd never left. He looked as he had many months ago; confident and clear-eyed. The office seemed to immediately transform with his presence. There was an energy to it they'd all so very sorely missed.

It was nice. It was ‘normal’. What was a little outside the norm was the box of coco puffs he plopped down on the corner of his desk as he called everyone into his office.

Though he'd spoken to his team regularly when they'd had the opportunity to go out to dinner or the cousins had stopped by with a pizza, they hadn't seen their leader as often as they'd liked and the details of the reason for his absence were never discussed. They knew enough - that whatever had happened during his deployment seriously messed with his head and he had to take some time to get it together again. Over time, along with gaining back most of the weight he'd lost; he'd begun to seem more relaxed; more engaged in his surroundings and his ohana. Granted, he still wasn't all that talkative but he'd never been that way to begin with. But whatever the cause for his absence, they were overjoyed to see him back at work.

They'd gotten to meet two new friends: Kekipi and Howard. Kono in particular was fascinated by the woman who seemed to have no fear of anyone or anything. She'd never seen Steve so quickly acquiesce to someone’s wishes or Danny to back down from an argument. Kono really liked her.

Kamekona had occasionally stopped by the McGarrett house with one of his experimental shrimp dishes for one of his 'favorite arms of the law' to evaluate. As long as it didn’t contain spam, the big kahuna was always willing to give it a go. He’d missed the man who was fearless enough to try any new dish he’d come up with even though his track record for such experiments wasn't all that great. The big entrepreneur was happy to see that life had come back again to the eyes that had so recently reflected only emptiness. They reminded him of his his cousin Lihau, the one they called Joey, before he'd disappeared.

Cousin Ha’upu, the boat captain, had told him that he hadn't been expecting such hard work from such a skinny but the guy had been of great help. The favor of twice-weekly round trips from Lanai to Oahu and back had been well worth it.

"Boss!" exclaimed Kono in a very uncharacteristically girly shriek. "You're back!"

She rushed forward arms outstretched before stopping to back off in embarrassment. At first startled, Steve smiled broadly then gathered her into a fierce hug. "Good to be back." he said.

Chin, a huge smile on his normally passive face clapped him on the shoulder in a very manly way before being taken by surprise when his leader unwrapped a long arm from his cousin to gather him into the hug as well.

Danny, the last one to make an appearance, immediately spotted the box of treats and made a beeline for it, saying, "Don't you dare try to hug me you ape. I just saw you yesterday." He grabbed a couple of the coco puffs and retreated quickly to the corner as though expecting to have to fight for them.

When the round of greetings was over, Steve cleared his throat and resumed what in the past they'd all come to recognize as their leader's 'official announcement' face as he crossed his arms and rested the backs of his thighs against the front of his desk.

"I . . . uhh . . . wanted to call you together to tell you what's going on or rather a little more of what's gone on with me the past few months."

Their leader's aquiline features were perfectly calm, no hint of what may be going on under the surface; in other words – normal Steve.

"I'm sure, being the astute investigators that you are; you already had a pretty good idea of what happened. I want you to know that I appreciate what . . . what you've done to help me out. I couldn't ask for a better team or better friends. No matter what happens, you are my ohana."

The cousins both glanced downward, touched by their boss's and friend's statement.

Steve cleared his throat before continuing. "That said; I wanted to give you guys an out if you no longer want to have me as your leader of this team."

Kono looked startled then opened her mouth to question his words as Chin actually muttered a surprised, "What?"

Steve put his hand up to quell the response. The cousins immediately silenced themselves and, strangely, Danny only sat impassively watching from his seat atop the credenza, an uneaten coco puff gripped between his fingers.

Steve looked each in the eye in turn as he explained himself.

"I'm certain that you already know that when I returned from my last deployment, I was a mess . . . both physically _and_ mentally."

No one responded this time. They were still as carved figures while waiting for him to continue. In the silence, one could have heard an eyelash hit the floor.

"It took awhile to get both issues resolved." He looked down briefly to gather himself before speaking again. "One was much more difficult than the other."

Danny sat silently; knowing what was coming and sincerely wanting it to be over. He knew it had to be killing Steve to be this open – even with his ohana. It was painful to watch.

"I . . . uhh . . . I did something pretty stupid while I was gone and if I'm going to continue as head of Five-0, I feel you need to know about it." His dark blue eyes pinned each face in turn with an unwavering gaze.

"If this was a military unit, I'd be reassigned to another outfit or possibly even to a desk, if not bounced out on a medical discharge."

The three seemed to hold their breaths as they waited for him to continue. The tall man, face now slightly flushed, stood from where he was leaning and slowly removed his chambray button down to reveal the T-shirt beneath it. He tossed the shirt onto his chair then, taking a deep breath, he extended his arms outward toward them, palms up so the crooks of his elbows were clearly visible.

Kono looked at them and then up to his face, trying not to reflect the shock she felt. Chin looked up face almost impassive but with a saddened intensity in his dark eyes. Danny's face reflected only encouragement.

Steve stood for a moment displaying for his team, the scars he'd put there. He waited long enough for each set of eyes to flick upward to his face, before he asked, "Now, do you still think I'm capable of being your leader? Do you still have enough confidence in me despite this?"

  


 


End file.
